Sin City
by slakalot
Summary: ATF Story. For 22 years Vin Tanner has nurtured a desire for justice for the murder of his mother. With the help of Larabee's new ATF team he just might get his chance - if he can just keep his cover as a motorcycle outlaw under control and stay alive! Violence and bad language. Fair warning, not an easy read & very long but if you like detail and a long plot, u might enjoy it :
1. PART ONE It Can't Rain All The Time

A/N: This story was first posted maybe around 2002 or thereabouts. It got pretty violent as it went on if I can remember, so maybe it will need a higher rating at some point. I'm going to go through it slowly and rewrite the whole second half, because I really hated the way it turned out. That's the reason it pretty much disappeared from every site it was posted to, including my own! I'm trying to get back to the place I was in when I first started it, which is extremely hard since my life is completely different these days, but hopefully when it ends I can put it to bed with a sense of satisfaction and closure finally.

This story deals with bikers, thugs, criminals. As such, it is full of violence and an extremely sexist attitude to women. I will post a warnings along the way.

That's it. If you've found this story for a second time, I hope you like the revised version and if you're new to it, hope you enjoy the ride!

X

**THIS Chapter involves the rape of a woman, PLEASE do not read if this will upset you in any way.**

**Part 1. It Can't Rain All the Time**

Texas, 1978

The old, run down house was quiet and silent, deathly still in the dark of the night. Not a creak of the floorboards, not a rattle of glass in the kitchen, no loud voices, no shouting, no violent scuffles, no crying… nothing. Just the sound of the steady patter of rain on the ground outside.

To the small boy hidden beneath the house, his tiny body curled into the smallest ball that he could make of himself, the lack of noise was terrifying. In his long five years, he had never once heard the house that silent for so long.

He stayed where he was, his clothes and ever-tousled hair wet from his mad dash outside and from the water that was coming through to soak the dirt beneath the boards of the house. He was too afraid to move, not wanting to think about why the house was quiet, but he knew. He knew why his mother had not come to look for him, she would have come to get him by now like she always did, if she could.

Her crying had stopped so suddenly, her sounds of pain and protest had been silenced long before the noise of the rumbling motorcycles had pulled away from the house. They had killed her. His father had come home again and he had killed her; him and his ugly, dirty, giants of friends. They had made her cry and scream and bleed until she had stopped moving… and he had seen it all.

When the noise of the motorcycles had reached them from up the street, his mother had gone deathly still, her hands desperately clutching the worn leather bag she had been madly stuffing clothes into. As the rumbling motors had grown louder she had abandoned her frantic packing, grabbing him and quickly stashing him in his room. With an emotional, yet all too brief, hug she had pushed his small body under the bed and told him to stay there and when the front door had flown open, little Vin Tanner had done exactly as he'd been told. He'd crouched under his bed on the tattered yet clean floorboards and listened to the heavy boots crossing over the wood, his eyes wide with fear and his heart hammering in his tiny chest.

Yet as his mother's pleas had transformed into muffled screaming, his fear had turned to something else and before he even knew what he was doing, he was out from under his bed and moving to the closed door. With his baseball bat dragging behind him, he'd thrown open the door and run at the first man he saw, writhing on top of his mother on the kitchen floor. With determination he hefted the wood above his head, wanting to crush the man with the long, red plait of hair and stop him from hurting his mother… but the bat never connected, never lifted high enough in the air before he, himself was lifted off the ground in a kicking, fighting blur of arms and legs.

It was his father, the man he only saw when he came home drunk after days away riding his bike. He didn't know where he went, didn't care, so long as he was gone, but he was here now and he had brought friends with him. The last time he had done that his mother had had to go away to hospital and he had been left alone where his father had locked him in the basement. Every time his father came, he went straight to the basement and either took things out or put things in. Sometimes men came and filled it up with wooden boxes and then other men came and took them away. He'd never been allowed in there and then suddenly he was locked in there for days within the darkness and silence of the cramped and dirty space. He didn't know it then, but it was a feeling of terror that would stay with him forever.

He was lifted by the back of his shirt and thrown on top of the orange laminate of the kitchen bench, too scared to fight, knowing how much his father's hands hurt, but he wanted to help his mother. She was not even crying any more and he was terrified for her. As his father moved to take his turn, Vin leapt off the counter and ran to help her. The mighty hand caught him across his face and he flew into the wall, his eyes half closed as he tried to understand what was happening.

She was not moving, yet he heard her voice.

"Please, leave the kid be." It was a soft plea, a final wish.

The menacing voice was filled with venom. "You spoke to the cops. You always thought you were too good for me, but I never thought you'd try an' burn me like that."

"No, they came to –"

Vin saw him shake her hard to silence her, heard her head smack onto the hollow wood beneath as the mean face moved in towards hers and leaned close, the voice harsh. "Yeah you did... but you won't do it again."

His mother was quiet for the longest time and Vin saw the gleam of a metal blade lift above her. His scream of 'No!' was cut short by a hand around his mouth and he kicked and screamed with everything he had, managing to somehow break free and lunge at his father's back.

Blood, there was blood everywhere. His mother was staring up at the roof, her mouth open, a sea of red pouring from her neck. He wasn't aware that he was screaming until he was struck again and his father rose up, the deadly knife still in his hands as he stepped towards him. He was next, he was going to cut him open too.

He'd run then, dodging the big arms that swooped down to grab him and sprinting for the back door, one step ahead of the massive black boots that thundered after him. He was under the house in his safe place before they even reached the wooden door.

"Find the little bastard!"

"Fuck him. What the hell's a kid gonna do? Let's get the stuff and get outta here."

He peered through the darkness of the gap he had crawled through to get under the house, holding his breath as a pair of big black leather boots stopped outside on the sodden ground. They were the same boots his father wore, with shiny metal buckles on the sides. They cut, those buckles. He knew to dodge them when they kicked his way.

He felt a warm drop on his hand and he turned it slightly, watching in fascination as it caught the light that filtered through to him. The drop was red and followed quickly by another. It was leaking through the boards above him, but his mind was trying not to realise that.

Finally the boots moved on and after a moment he heard movement start above him on the floorboards inside. It was the longest hour of his life before he finally heard the motorcycles tear away back down the street… and still he stayed where he was, not knowing what to do as he began to shiver violently. His face was throbbing and his arm hurt where he'd gashed it deeply on the piece of broken wood he'd scrambled past to get under the house. He'd fallen asleep eventually, the shock and blows to his head had overridden the cold and he had slept long and deep in the chilly dirt. When the police had eventually come to examine the house days later, tipped off by a neighbour, it was by pure chance that Officer Murphy had found him, having been alerted by his canine partner.

Thirty one year old Douglas Murphy would never forget the sight of the skinny, dirty, desperately sick child that he had finally talked into coming out from the tiny gap under the house. The sight of the bruised face, covered in what they'd soon realised was his mother's blood seeping through the cracks in the floorboards, peering through hair in long need of a cut, showed glimpses of soulful blue eyes that had torn at his heart and those of his fellow officer's.

He could not imagine a child so young having to face what was inside that house. The cute looking kid with the too-old eyes had not spoken a word to them, but they suspected he had seen his mother killed. There was not a cop there who's throat was not tight with emotion when he was taken away, his eyes wide but dry as he'd watched the ambulance doors close and had been led away by a female paramedic. He would not take her hand, would not let anyone touch him. The stark bruises on his cheeks covered most of his face and made every person there want to find the bastard who had struck the defenceless child.

They'd found out later the house was owned by one of the states largest motorcycle outlaw gangs. The government had long been working to stop the massive movement of drugs that the gang was responsible for running across the border from Mexico. These were bad men, with no regard for the law and no regard for human life. Every officer present that day would forever remember the sight of the woman lying on the floor, her throat cut from ear to ear with her blood let out onto the floor around her, stained now into the wood.

Douglas himself had never forgotten the slight weight of the tiny child he had briefly held in his arms as he had lifted him into the back of the ambulance. Even then, the boy had been absolutely still as he had endured the human contact in silence. It took no genius to realise that this kid did not trust adults and from what they had seen, he had good reason to feel that way.

He'd transferred out of Texas not long after, with the decision that he wanted to make a difference, for kids like that one who were subjected to the darker side of life right from the word go. The police officer applied for a position with the Drug Enforcement Agency, which he finally got a few years later.

Meanwhile the outlaw gangs had continued to grow in numbers, despite efforts from local and federal agencies and specialised task forces to stop them. This gang in particular was notoriously ruthless and considered itself a law unto itself, as did most. There was still a lack of resources spent on targeting these clubs, although over the years a higher awareness of their criminal activities had been established. Many states tended to focus on the high profile issue of street gang violence, which was a higher priority to the general public. Some departments saw the need to keep the public happy as a higher priority, rather than educate them on another evil that was lurking beneath their doors.

No matter what a persons opinion of outlaw clubs, no matter what they had seen for themselves or experienced, chances were, the drugs and guns that seeped into their neighbourhoods largely came from this source. While there were legitimate clubs whose soul purpose was to ride their bikes, there were also the element who liked to sell themselves off as misunderstood men who simply enjoyed riding their motorcycles together - law abiding citizens involved in community projects. The reality of this was far from the truth.

The more Douglas learnt, the more he realised the fact that they were mostly camouflaging their real interests, which included everything from an extensive involvement in the importation and trafficking of drugs, to theft, loansharking, extortion, prostitution, strip clubs, illegal selling of alcohol and tobacco and possession and trafficking of illegal weapons, amongst other things. The longer he investigated them, the more incidents he saw of bikers using tactics ranging from intimidation and assault, to attempted murder and murder to promote and protect their interests... and the more determined he got to stop them. No matter what they professed, which was little given their secrecy to 'citizens' outside of their clubs, these men had to earn their money somewhere, and it was a sure bet it wasn't through a nine to five job every day.

Often, over the years, as he'd moved on and finally wound up in Denver as head of his department, Douglas Murphy had found himself wondering what had ever become of that child back in Texas. Nobody had ever been charged for the woman's murder and the child had been placed in the system, not having given them any insight into what he had seen. He'd done all he could to get information regarding his welfare, but the files were off limits, no matter what angle he tried. He hoped he'd had a good life, far removed from the violent start he'd been given.


	2. A New Force

**2. A New Force**

Denver, 2006

_We walk the narrow path,_

_beneath the smoking skies._

_Sometimes you can barely tell the difference_

_between darkness and light._

_Do we have faith, in what we believe?_

_The truest test is when we cannot, when we cannot see._

_I hear the pounding feet in the streets below, and the,_

_And the women cry and the,_

_And the children know that there,_

_That there's something wrong,_

_And it's hard to believe that_

_Love will prevail._

_Oh it won't rain all the time._

_The sky won't fall forever._

_And though the night seems long,_

_Your tears won't fall forever._

_Oh, when I'm lonely, I lie awake at night and I wish you were here._

_I miss you. Can you tell me is there something more to believe in?_

_Or is this all there is?_

_And the pounding feet, in the,_

_In the streets below, and the,_

_And the window breaks and,_

_And a woman falls, there's,_

_There's something wrong, it's,_

_It's so hard to believe that love will prevail._

_Oh it won't rain all the time._

_The sky won't fall forever._

_And though the night seems long,_

_Your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall_

_Forever._

_Last night I had a dream._

_You came into my room, you took me into your arms._

_Whispering and kissing me, and telling me to still believe._

_The very emptiness of the burning seas against which we sail our darkest desires..._

_Until I felt safe and warm._

_I fell asleep in your arms._

_When I awoke I cried again for you were gone._

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_It won't rain all the time._

_The sky won't fall forever._

_And though the night seems long,_

_Your tears won't fall forever._

_It won't rain all the time_

_The sky won't fall forever._

_And though the night seems long,_

_Your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall_

_Forever._

_**Jane Siberry, It Can't Rain All The Time, (Crow Soundtrack)**_

Chris Larabee glanced at the files strewn across his desk. Every one of them profiled a man considered a suitable recruit for his specialised team of agents, yet none of the photo's or words or lists of achievements had convinced him that any of them were right for the job. He was a man with a wealth of experience, joining the Army with his oldest friend Buck Wilmington where they had both entered into the Special Forces. They had joined the army for adventure and had certainly had their share of action, but had both discovered that, although they loved the nature of their work, they both wanted more than the disciplined lifestyle it required.

With the skills and training that had shaped them into fast thinking and acting men, they had joined the US Marshals office and fast become the best in their field. For years they enjoyed the fast paced lifestyle that their jobs afforded and eventually Chris accepted a position in Chicago to head up his own Special Operations Group, with Buck only too happy to serve under his friend. He had no ambitions to lead men, he simply loved the challenge and the excitement of it all.

Chris's wedding had been one of the happiest days of Buck's life, second only to the day he had become an

honorary uncle to a gorgeous boy named Adam. Life was fantastic, they continued at the top of their field and spent wonderful days watching Adam grow into a happy child.

Then it had all gone to hell. Chris's wife and child were killed in a devastating fire one weekend when they were out of town. They had stayed an extra night after transporting a prisoner interstate, to unwind and relax, only to receive the devastating news over a phone call in the early hours of the morning. Nothing had ever been close to the same since.

Chris had taken six weeks of annual leave owed to him and Buck had watched him slowly sink into a deep

depression over that time, despite his continual effort to help. When Chris had eventually returned to work, it was only to discover that he was in no state whatsoever to deal with the constant pressure and demands of his job. He'd left his position shortly after – and then he'd left everything, including Buck, who had tried with all his heart to bring his friend back from the grief that had consumed him. They had parted ways with short words left to settle over time.

Buck wasn't angry, only sad for his friend, devastated for his loss and for his own as well. He had loved Sarah and Adam like they were his own family, but there was nothing more that he could do for his friend. It was over a year later when he heard from him again.

Chris had been contacted by a former Army Captain, Wilson Benning, who was now heading up a new Denver Division of the ATF under the guidance of ATF Director, Orin Travis. The two were close friends. Benning had had a hard time tracking Larabee down and had eventually only discovered him when his name had cropped up in relation to a drunk and disorderly charge in Indiana.

Chris remembered the day Benning had shown up out of nowhere at the bar he had come to know as a second home. There had been no disapproval there, he was not a man to judge others, there was only a grim determination in his weathered face. He should have known then that his life was about to change – and it had, slowly.

Across the country task forces and specialist teams were being put together and given greater resources in

response to the growing numbers of members of biker gangs throughout the land, who's network of crime was reaching alarming proportions. Benning had convinced Travis that Larabee was the best man to head up his Special Division within the ATF based in Denver, to deal not only with this problem, but to work with other divisions on cases that crossed over into the ATF's domain in other areas.

There was a darker side to the city that few ever saw and those who did, chose to steer well clear. On the outer reaches of town sat an area that locales referred to as Purgatorio, where thieves and gangs and drug dealers ruled the streets and had grown in numbers until they had taken over what was in itself a seedy town with its own economy. It was Travis's intention to have a new team begin with an investigation into this area, working with the much respected head of the Denver DEA, Douglas Murphy, to do their best at cleaning it up and gathering information about the activities that went on there.

It had taken long days of hard convincing, with Benning never giving up on the man he had believed in since the day he had joined his team years before, but finally he and Travis together had hounded the soul weary man until he had agreed. Benning's word that Larabee was the man for the job was all the assurance Travis needed to commit to the recruitment effort. If Benning wanted him, he had good reason. He knew Chris's background, knew what held the man back – and he used it against him to get his way. He brought in Murphy from the DEA to tell the hardened leader about the chapter president of the outlaw motorcycle gang that was currently residing in a fortress-like headquarters a few hours out of the city.

Murphy pulled no punches when he told him of the many stories of the gang that called themselves the `Devil's Jokers'. Some were considered urban myths, but many were based on fact, involving hard crimes and acts of terrorism that the gang and its leader had committed all over the country. He showed photos of young women thought to have been kidnapped by the gang over the years, although no reports had ever been confirmed. Then he'd finished with the one story that he knew would hit home; the one story he knew for a fact was true, because he had been one of the first police officers to arrive at the scene of the crime nearly twenty two years before.

He spoke about how the Jokers' current Denver chapter president had gang raped and then murdered his own woman back in Texas years before, slitting her throat from ear to ear. Murphy told of how he had left the state himself not long after, but had taken with him the images of the woman with the slit throat; and the memory of an innocent little boy who'd seen his own mother killed, only five years old at the time.

Now two decades later, that outlaw's deeds had earned him the respect of the many men that joined the gang's ranks each year so that he was now voted a leader. Larabee's jaw had clenched at this news. With his son's death still all too fresh in his heart in was impossible to remain impassive. It was inconceivable that men like that were able to get away with their crimes. Still, it had been a long deliberation before he had finally accepted the terms of the position and agreed on a six week time period to put together his men.

Buck had been an easy choice and to his relief, his old friend had held no grudge against him when he had called him with the offer. He had picked up and moved to join him in Denver in less than a week and Chris had to admit, he was damn happy to see his old friend. Life would never be the same after his family's death, but it was marginally better than it had been in a long while.

Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez were men they knew from their Army days. Benning had given Chris a list of potential recruits and he had looked each over with infinite care. He remembered both of the men well and knew they would be perfect for the team. They had both also been living in Denver and so knew the area well. They were specially trained in combat and both highly educated men. Nathan's medical training and Josiah's explosives expertise were also great skills and something he knew the team would benefit from.

Three men short, the fledgling team had worked together to find their remaining men. Ezra Standish might have seemed a strange choice to some, but Chris Larabee had known instantly that he was a man with rare skills. The FBI Agent was a former Intelligence Operative and had been working on becoming an associate of the Joker gang for six months and as such, would play a very important part in the team. He had a long list of achievements in his wake, with a reputation of digging up the dirt on even the most deeply burrowed criminals. It was what the files didn't say, however, that had earned Ezra a reputation as a man not to be trusted, even within his own team. There were whispers of him making deals that went beyond the limit of the law, but from what Chris could see, they were merely whispers.

What few knew about Ezra P. Standish, was that he was a rich man in his own right and a shrewd businessman by nature. His mother owned several restaurants and hotels throughout the country, having little to do with their operations, but overseeing their growth and profit with an eagle eye, often from her homes abroad. No one that worked for them had any idea that the rich man that sometimes came to dine or visit, was in fact the owner's son. Mr `Stetson' was merely a rich entrepreneur to be treated very, very respectably. His mother understood little about him, he felt, but she knew his identity must be kept hidden in his line of work.

Two months prior to taking the position with the new ATF team, Ezra had gone undercover as the co-manager of one of the largest entertainment venues in the city. The upmarket, multistory complex had everything from a wine bar to a nightclub with a VIP room on the upper level. The massive complex was a playground for drugs and money to change hands and Ezra Standish was watching it all happen, grounding himself deeper and deeper in an attempt to understand how the whole trade worked, from the ground up. With his keen mind for business, he had fast become an asset to the owner and fellow manager, an older man by the name of Mitri Vlahov. Mitri had contacted the FBI himself many months prior to Ezra joining him, wanting to put an end to the club's use of his facility as it's distribution point. He had welcomed the undercover agent and done his best to ingrain him in the business and had been pleasantly surprised when Ezra had actually had some brilliant ideas to improve his profits and efficiency, which he had gladly supplied.

One might wonder why a man of Standish's means would bother keeping a regular day job, but the truth was, he was damn good at what he did and it was more important to him than anything else in his life. It gave him purpose where nothing else had… and then there was the fact that he had a personal debt to settle with the Jokers, one that he would see through to the very end, whatever way it went…

When Chris had discovered that the FBI were debating whether to pull Standish out for another case requiring more resources, he had moved in. Meetings with the Southerner had revealed he had not known there was talk of ending his operation and he was most willing to continue with his current assignment, however he could make that happen. The case had become the ATF's and Standish a part of Team Seven within two weeks.

Truth be known, Ezra had liked the four men he had met right off the bat, although they had no clue of that. His face betrayed nothing of his thoughts. He was not hostile, he was merely aloof, yet it was plain to see that within his intelligent green eyes lay a cunning mind. He'd worked hard to integrate himself with Vlahov and was grateful to Larabee for the opportunity to continue on his quest. He also thought that these men didn't look like they would allow procedures and red tape to get in the way of seeing justice done and that was something he valued dearly.

Next had come JD Dunne, communications expert and computer analyst with the ATF. JD had been recruited by the government right out of college for his highly accelerated skills in computing and electronics. The only problem they did not foresee was Dunne's love for action. Working in a closed lab surrounded by four walls was not what the young agent had in mind at all. He wanted to be out in the field, yet was constantly turned down in his applications to transfer departments… Until Chris Larabee got hold of his records. The kid was brilliant, naïve but brilliant and he had asked him to meet with him and his team. Dunne was out of his league with the calibre of experience in the room when he met the rest of the team, but he had his own area of expertise that the team lacked. They all liked the kid and after a few hours of watching him drive Buck crazy, Chris knew he would fit right in.

That brought him to the present, with a search for a final member of the team. They had all agreed that a man with sharpshooter skills was needed to fulfill the final position. Larabee knew that every man staring back at him from his desk was qualified to do the job, yet he was a perfectionist. He wanted more than just qualified. This team was going to require dedication and talent and it was going to demand a commitment beyond the normal standard. His gut instinct was telling him the man he needed was not in those files.

His six weeks were nearly up and already they had made headway in their research into the local outlaw gang, but he would rather wait longer than bring aboard the wrong person.

They had met with one former police marksman, but had quickly dismissed him from consideration. The man had been so by the book as to be scary. It was as if he was born and raised in the police force and had studied his manual back to front. He was not a man that thought outside the box and Chris would settle for nothing less.

As he shoved the stack of files to the side of his desk, he hoped it would not be long before the right person

presented himself. Tonight he and Buck would be paying Ezra's club a visit, otherwise known as `DV8 City'. Ezra had gotten Nathan a job managing the VIP bar a few days before and they were going to look around and get a feel for the place. Nathan had worked in many bars when he had studied at college and was very much at ease running one, although he had never worked in one of that magnitude before and not one that was known to be a virtual highway of drug trading.

What Chris had learned so far, was that not all of the men in this club wore `colours', meaning the trademark leather vests and denim with various patches of their club presented for identification. In the modern world, most outlaw gangs had come very far. It was thought that for every one member that wore the colours of the gang, there were at least ten associates working for the club that worked in all facets of everyday life and the business world. They had contacts in important places, informants that would do their bidding and pass on as much information as they could. The club financed the educations of students of law, medicine, and in other useful occupations that could benefit their organization.

One major downside to being part of the organization was that leaving was not easy and if you should act outside the interests of the club, punishment was usually swift and harsh. Of course, much of the information that the feds had handed over was based on estimations and a little too much guess work for Chris's liking. He would have liked to have a lot more to work on, but he figured that was why he had been brought in, to find out more. At this point, he would assume nothing, but all the same, he would be proceeding with extreme caution. He was a man that always put his team first, and he never asked them to do anything that he

himself would not. That is why he chose his men so carefully, for having said that, there were certain things he would expect from them, and certain things that many men would not do.

So far he had found that The Devil's Jokers were a club that seemed typical of the modern world. They were a well organised and well oiled institution, with documented laws which governed the actions of all members and associate members. There was a hierarchy within the ranks that saw that no man acted outside the interests of the club. Beatings and murders were not uncommon within their own circle and everybody had their job to do. They had been under observation for many years, with their movements being well tracked, yet this information was still limited, for the everyday workings of the club were closed to all outside forces.

Chris was lost in his thoughts, contemplating the files on his desk, when there was a knock at his door and he looked up to see Benning and Murphy waiting to enter, umbrella's still wet in their hands. He stood to greet them.

"Chris," Benning said.

"Will, what brings you up here?" He asked of the man who had become a good friend over the years. He nodded to the other man he had only known for a few months, but had found he liked. "Doug."

Wilson held out a folder in his hand. "Thought you might want to take a look at this."

They moved in and took seats at the desk as Chris opened the manila folder.

"Still raining much?" he asked as he looked at the dossier inside. He wasn't one for idle chatter, he simply hadn't had a chance to get outside for hours and was curious as to whether it was letting up.

"Hasn't stopped. Looks like its gonna get worse," Benning answered as Chris studied the file in silence.

The minutes stretched out before the new ATF Captain gave a low, soft whistle. "This guys' here, now?" he asked, glancing up to see a slightly smug smile on Benning's face, but Murphy shook his head.

"He's on a weeks leave, he'll be here next week."

He looked at the DEA leader as Benning cut in. "This is a highly classified exchange, only Murphy knew until today, when he told me – and now you."

Chris frowned a little as he read the information. "Former Marine… Sniper… Special Operations, NTF…" he looked up again, "he was undercover for a whole year?"

Murphy nodded. "Down in Texas and Mexico. They pumped up the task force along the border with the rise in methamphetamines and weapons coming in. Tanner volunteered to go in and infiltrate the group, which so

happened to be a chapter of the Jokers."

Chris's face was a little troubled by that. One didn't just go in and 'infiltrate' a club like that, he would have had to have contacts already. That alone, told him something about the man - not much, but enough to know that he'd kept company with bikers long before he'd become one undercover.

Benning took up the story. "According to Jake Walters, head of the NTF in Texas, they pulled him out when an operation went wrong. It was mostly Tanner's deal and when a local DEA rookie jumped the gun and blew the whole thing, some of the outlaws got nailed, more than a few got killed." He shook his head, the situation had been a mess.

"So Tanner got the blame from the outlaws and he got punished, severely. He spent two weeks in the hospital and his Captain decided he'd done enough." He gave a grim smile. "Only thing is, that punishment he took served as a right of passage. It meant his probation period was over and he'd be moving up in the ranks, but he couldn't convince Lomely of that. When he saw that Tanner had recovered enough to travel, he organised his transfer here for three months as a departmental exchange to get him away from the heat."

Chris thought that over. Just when Tanner was about to make real progress, Lomely had taken him out of the game. Fair enough that his agent had been severely beaten, but taking him out altogether ensured that the punishment had effectively been without payoff.

"I don't know Lomely all that well, he's a hard guy to get to know," Benning went on, seeing the questions in

Larabee's eyes. "Bassett's his first name. He said Tanner wasn't too happy about it." He shook his head at that, "actually, not happy was an understatement, but he told him straight that it was either that or he find a new job. He says he likes the kid and that he's a damn good agent, but if he'd stayed where he was without a breather, he wasn't going to live to see thirty and he didn't want to be responsible for that."

Chris considered Wilson's words while he read the information before him silently, trying to draw his own picture of what had happened. Something struck him as odd, there was something the files did not say, he was sure of it. Maybe a three month hiatus was necessary for Tanner to recover, but Lomely should have realised he couldn't just pull his agent out cold from deep undercover, not when he had just truly been accepted by the club, something near on impossible to achieve. Then there was Tanner himself. Looking at his record, he could see that there, too, were words unspoken.

"This guys at the top of his field," he thought aloud, "one of the best snipers in the country, he could be earning top dollar in his trade for any number of organisations… and he pursues a career in the Narcotics Task Force – volunteers to live with outlaws at the base level. _Why_?"

Murphy shook his head. "He's been approached, many times. Hell even the CIA were after him. He's perfect for them. No family, a lone wolf, trained killer, brilliant at gathering intelligence in the field… There's many groups that would love to get this guy under their wing, but he's had one singular goal since he left the marines and he's been a damn good operative within the NTF. According to my sources, he grew up with biker gangs in Texas and he detests them. If he wasn't bringing them down legally, he'd do it anyway. Any skills he's acquired he keeps for the sole purpose of bringing these guys down – and he's real patient at it; sets them up slowly and watches them fall, with them having no idea how they were brought down."

"So it's a calling?" Chris said with a raised brow.

"Well this is all we know at the moment and it's enough to warrant a good look," Murphy said.

"His fighting skills are how he infiltrated them in the first place as a probate," Benning continued the tale. "Some guys he hung out with training are in the club, including his trainer. They think he's a rising kickboxer, obviously they have no idea what his real occupation is."

"Who nominated him to be a member?" Chris asked, knowing that to join the gang he would have needed someone to vouch for him.

"Here's a fine example of how these bastards operate," Murphy said, with disdain now clear on his face. "This trainer guy nominated him. Tanner used to train with him at a youth club up until he left for the marines. When he returned and joined the NTF, he went back to the same club. The trainers name is Ray Hopkins, who just so happens to be the Joker's National Enforcer."

Chris's brow puckered slightly. He was fast getting up to speed on the terminology of the club, but it was a hell of a lot more involved than he had ever assumed. It would take more than the two months he'd had to understand the whole picture. Tanner was a valuable asset, if they could get him, but he had a lot of questions.

"That's like the internal police, right?"

Benning nodded. "He answers directly to the national president. He acts as a bodyguard and gives out punishment for club violations."

"Locate former members, retrieve colours, remove the club's tattoo, that sort of thing?" Chris asked with a smile. He was quoting a book he'd read, he had no idea how much of it was true.

Murphy returned the smile but his voice was stern. "Some of the stories are exaggerated to hell and back, but not all of it is fiction."

Chris nodded, respecting the mans experience, as Benning continued.

"And he's the one that put Tanner in the hospital – although it's understood that it was nothing personal, he was just doing his job," Murphy finished.

Chris shook his head. "So... Tanner gets in, does his probation time…" he flicked back to a page he had seen earlier, "...which I guess explains these arrest sheets..." He looked one over closely before looking up with a raised brow.

"He served six months?" That went beyond commitment. Now more than ever, Lomely taking him off the case did not add up.

"A few months into his probation, they had him deliver drugs to a regular buyer," Murphy explained. "He went in with about five other guys. Unfortunately, the case crossed into an FBI set-up." He shook his head in disgust. The lack of communication between departments across the country was a long standing problem. That was why this new ATF team was so important, to work as a bridging team. "It took a while to sort out the mess when he got busted along with everyone else at the scene. Three bikers died, one fed wound up brain damaged from a ricocheted bullet to the back of the skull. The club made Tanner take the rap, that's the way it goes when you're a probate. Luckily it wasn't that big a bust, they managed to make his sentence look legit when they had it reduced down to two years. He spent six inside gathering information on the network they've got going on in there. It's like whole chapters of their own in the prisons around the country. He used his time so well he practically wrote a manual on how they operate inside. It'll take years to clean out the system he blueprinted for us. They're doing it slow, but it'll happen."

"They looked after him inside," Benning told him. "He got it pretty easy compared to what most have to do to prove themselves. His fighting's what got him in so well, that and Hopkin's word. They don't know about his talent for shooting or I'm sure they'd use it to their advantage. One of the other bikers was painted a traitor, but he was already dead so it didn't affect him."

Larabee was starting to get a feeling in his stomach. This guy sounded too good to be true, but he couldn't ignore that there was something the files were not telling them. He continued to read the information on the NTF agent.

"There's no photo here."

"We don't have one. We're still waiting for some transfer work to come through, but there's no photo's on file."

Chris nodded absently and continued reading. "State orphanage… what happened to his parents?"

"According to the records they were killed in a car accident. He was bumped through homes and foster care for years, finally signing up as soon as he was of age."

"Already with a strong foot in the door of the club."

Murphy exchanged a look with Benning. They heard the question in Larabee's voice. Murphy took up the challenge. "I don't know this kid, but his record speaks for itself. Take a good look in there," he pointed to the folder. "Through him, we've learned more about this club than we've ever known, and we've put away more of these guys in the last year than the entire Fed operation has done nationwide in it's history. He's working for the right side. The Commissioner didn't pin a medal on him for nothing."

Finally, Chris looked up, he'd just seen the information detailing the award Tanner had received for the information he had gathered whilst in prison. "If this guy's as good as he seems, then why would Lomely be willing to give him up?"

"We don't know that he will," Benning said with a shrug. "I know he wants Tanner out of Texas for a while, but I think he'd be sorry to lose him... and Tanner knows nothing about this. There's no guarantee he'll want to leave the NTF either, but the way Lomely puts it, he won't be letting him back undercover for a while if he goes back. He knows he can still make a big difference helping infiltrate them down there, but he thinks he got in too deep and he's not willing to risk him, or any of his boys, like that again. Saying that, he says he understands getting Tanner out is complicated." This last he said with a rueful smile - complicated was an understatement.

"This is only meant as a temporary transfer for three months to exchange skills and information about state

operations, then he's meant to go back. It's his hometown down there, even though he didn't live there for a long time. He might be a tough recruit," Murphy added with a shrug of his shoulders.

Chris missed the look that Benning and Murphy exchanged whilst he was looking down at Tanner's file. If he'd seen it, he would have seen the calculating gleam in their eyes. They knew Lomely was making a mistake pulling Tanner out, and they also knew that if anyone had the balls to let Tanner dig deeper, it was the new Captain sitting in front of them. His unorthodox way was exactly why he was such a successful leader.

Benning smiled, pressing further. "He's the best, Chris. You want the best, he's it. I'll help you get him if you decide you want him on your team."

Chris looked back at him with a serious expression, then looked from one man to the other, knowing they were pushing for him to take Tanner on. "I'd be a fool to overlook what he's achieved so far," he raised a hand to stop them agreeing with him, "but before you two start patting yourselves on the back, I need to see that he can move beyond this case when we're done with it. He's been in deep with these guys a long, long time. The biker's aren't all this team is about," he reminded them.

"But they _are_ a priority," Benning reminded him.

"He's also got a long success sheet before he took on the Jokers," Murphy said.

Chris nodded, his lip curling slightly. These two were practically transparent in their attempt to sway him, but he trusted them both and he respected their experience. "I'd like to see where his mind is at," he told them, looking at Benning as he finally nodded. "Guess I'd better meet this Vin Tanner."

Benning smiled, glancing at Murphy. "I'll set it up."


	3. Ride On, Lone Rider

AN: There's a lot of detail and background in these initial chapters, but the scene is almost set now, I promise! I'm an action junky, it gets faster :) Also, in this chapter, there is mention of the word 'nigger'. The racist biker mentality is appalling and I wanted to show this, but if this offends you, please do not read it.

**Part 3. Ride On, Lone Rider**

_I got a burning feeling_

_Deep inside of me_

_It's yearning_

_But I'm going to set it free_

_I'm going in to sin city_

_I'm gonna win in sin city_

_Where the lights are bright_

_Do the town tonight_

_I'm gonna win in sin city_

_Ladders and snakes_

_Ladders give, snakes take_

_Rich man, poor man, beggarman, thief_

_Ain't got a hope in hell, that's my belief_

_**(AC/DC Sin City)**_

_**..**_

The outer city street was dark and quiet. It was not only the driving rain that pelted the concrete in a steady force that kept the people away. Purgatorio was a bad side of town that decent folk never visited, one that few, in fact, ever saw. The dirt went far deeper than the concrete walkways and old, battered buildings, mostly vacated over the years and never restored. It was in the very drains that ran beneath the ground, like a tunnelled life-force channelling through the outer reaches of the city. Tonight those drains were overflowing from the unexpected deluge, bringing dirty water surging back up to the ground to seep onto the roads, spitting rubbish back up to the scattering feet of the careless sloths that fed the very veins that supported them with their filth. Even bad areas had a worse side… everyone knew the place was as bad as it came, but even those that lived there never ventured over to the western streets.

Today was the first rain in a long, long time and even the gangs, drug dealers and prostitutes were indoors, taking refuge inside cold walls that offered little comfort on this miserable night. This was a night to let the devil have his way and to find other sources of entertainment beyond the routine. Trade continued underground, in sheltered doorways and damp buildings and the only public bar was seeing any action.

Purgatorio itself had only two bars. A third had ceased operating the month before when a fire-bomb had ripped through the building, killing the owners and late night punters who had lingered over their last drinks. The charred remains of rubble were now left to serve as a reminder to those who did not head the warnings of the men who ran the town. There was an enforced system of order, one which was seemingly unstoppable and the residents of the streets did not believe it in their power to stop it.

One of those two bars sat well distanced from the rest of town. It was named "The Shaking Hand" and was a place where the baser side of man was catered to, alcohol consumed, packages exchanged and all with the confidence of men who knew that no law would dare enter their domain. This bar could not exactly be called public, for a man would be truly crazy to enter without specific purpose, for it was owned and operated by the Devil's Jokers, the very men who ran the town.

The `Jokers' as they were commonly known, had begun in Texas back in 1959 and had grown to become one of the largest outlaw motorcycle clubs in the country, with chapters and affiliates in most of the states. In its early days, many of the members were inspired by Marlon Brando in the Wild One, as were many men of the time, loving riding their bikes and loving being a part of something. It was a tight-knit group of men, men who knew each other well and would back each other to the end. Some were war buddies, some just men who loved to ride. For every man it was slightly different, for every man was individual, but joined by a common bond; motorcycles and 'the club'.

In later years, the club had experienced a surge in numbers, with hundreds of men vying for acceptance into the ranks, though with few actually making the cut, for this was a select group, not easily joined. For many, riding was the main attraction, but to say that they were not attracted to the outlaw lifestyle, would not be a fair call. By the time a man became a full member of the Devil's Jokers, he knew exactly what it was all about and precisely what lifestyle choice he was making.

Then one clear day in Denver, five men had ridden into Purgotorio in a unified thunder of chrome piping and simply never left. In a calculated play, the small time club that had operated there before had not been given the choice to become part of them, or 'patched over' as the term was known in some places. They were simply informed that they no longer existed, told to 'Get the hell out'... and they did.

The clubs main headquarters were located out of town, but it was The Shaking Hand where their regular income was made. Their interests ran far and wide but this was their territory, every deal had to be passed through them and every methamphetamine lab was now under their jurisdiction. Nothing was done that they did not know about, or there were consequences to be met.

One might easily miss the steps leading down to the basement venue, the smell of decay reaching up to the street as one approached, if not for the long line of metal steeds that parked at an angle along the sidewalk, under the cover of the building's overhang that was a clear sign that the dark, tattered building was inhabited.

This was meeting headquarters for the town's rulers. It was a human den of snakes and rats, where deals were made and goods bought and sold. Human life was traded as nothing more than meat, women swapped and passed over for money or to pay a debt owed to another. This was a man's world, of that there was no mistake.

Female life here was nothing more than income and sex to the men that lived and worked the streets. That wasn't to say some of the men did not have wives that they cared about, it was just that in here, most women knew their place and some even welcomed the chance of being taken care of and fed and clothed, wishing only to be owned by one man, not the entire gang as some were. The `sheep' were put to work on the streets, selling themselves, selling drugs, some were even sent into the city to work decent jobs, working as spies in government departments, helping forge documents and gather information.

One might assume that women who chose to live such a life were uneducated, unresourceful, but this was not true. Some of the women simply loved the sex, loved the dark side of life, were punishing themselves for one reason or another, mistook sex for love – there were many reasons why they stayed. Like the men who joined the club life, women too were attracted to it. If each one were to say exactly what kept them there for the abuse, the degradation and the shame, there would be many answers. Some simply never saw it that way. They were getting just what they had set out to get.

There was a certain amount of romanticism associated with motorcycle gangs, but unfortunately most in Purgatorio learned the hard way that there was nothing romantic about being the property of men like these ones. To these men women were dirt, they were nothing more than a hole to fill and a source of income and men reigned supreme in this closed world. No, there was definitely nothing romantic about it, it was barbaric and cruel. It was men getting away with cowardly acts of strength over the less strong of the species…and no one was stopping them.

While there were those that hung around by choice, there were those who were not willing, had never been given the choice. Some were taken from the streets at a young age and put to work, initiated in a sickening, mind shattering game of servicing the entire gang in one crushing night of pure male cruelty. This act known as `pulling a train', was something beyond the comprehension of decent folk, something that put these men below the line of what was human, it made them animals, without souls.

The large wooden door at the entrance to the tavern was solid, the windows boarded well shut. Outside stood one massive man dressed in jeans and cut off leather jacket, standing sentry at the door. His colours showed he belonged to the Jokers and if one were to look closer, they would see the patch that labelled him a soldier. To those familiar with the club, there were darker patches on his jacket, labelling him many things, a murderer being just one of them. Even if a man was stupid enough to try, they had no chance of gaining entrance to this fortress. There were snipers on the roof and men stationed around the streets. An armed man stood at an upstairs window, watching the street at all times. This was a well run organisation, of that there was no mistake. They lived their lives with no regard for the rest of the citizens of the world, certainly with no regard for the law and they supported their lifestyle by committing crime.

Many 'citizens' wondered if the law actually knew what they were up to. In an age considered civilised, in a world where terrorism was condemned by most cultures, many asked the question of why in hell they were not stopped. Did the law really fear these terrorists as many suspected? Did their web of corruption extend too high to be stopped?

But few knew of the newly appointed task forces now dedicated to infiltrating their ranks. Coordinated efforts of both local and federal departments working to gather intelligence to stop their activities and bring them down once and for all. The problem was massive, in-depth and complex and infiltrating the close-knit groups was something near to impossible. Educated people that worked in the city - police, prisoners, judges, lawyers - there had been connections made to all groups far beyond the leather and the chrome of the obvious targets. It took a skilled and talented man to enter this world, to walk into a place like The Shaking Hand and become a part of it, but more than that, it took sheer guts - or stupidity, depending on the side you looked at it from.

As the rain continued to pelt the earth, a lone bike rumbled its way into the light outside the bar, its chrome work flashing in the neon lighting above, the sound of its pipes blanketing out all other noise until the engine was cut off and the solitary, black denim and leather-clad man eased his lean frame from his low seat. The guard at the door, who went by the name of `Bounce', an abbreviated term for his main job of the past five years of club bouncer, recognised the man by his bike, one that had drawn great interest in the past week since it had wheeled into town. He'd seen the bike before – and the man who owned it, Vincent Turner.

The Joker club rules stated that members had to ride Harleys, there were no exceptions. It also stated that the bike could not be stock, which led to some interesting combinations. Vin had always loved bikes and had been riding them since he could practically walk. Harleys weren't his first choice, he didn't consider them as reliable or as well made as some of the other bikes out there, but as long as he was in the club, he rode them. He'd been modifying and creating his own bikes for a long time and secretly frowned at the yuppies and retiries who paid cash for stock bikes and rode them around without knowing a thing about them, bar the fact that they pulled the throttle and the thing moved. Customising your own ride was what it was all about to him, it's what made the bike yours.

His own bike was such an awesome collaboration of black and chrome, it was easy to recognise by both sight and sound. It was, in fact, one of two that he owned. This was the one he liked to take on longer runs, such as riding up from Texas had been. The highly customised springer softail was not flashy by any means, rather it was the understated predator that sang from this machine that turned heads. Lean, dark and low, it sat like a menacing panther on the darkened street, it's rumbling v-twin engine growling its perfectly harmonised presence to onlookers and passers-by.

He'd spent many an hour working to customise the machine, in particular the hated exhaust crossover pipe that covered the most significant part of the machine - the massive v-twin engine. In order to give the beloved engine the viewing it deserved, he'd found a better way to place the interconnect pipe so that it cleverly routed from the front header pipe, behind the lower muffler, around the transmission and up to the rear header pipe, coating it in a slick black to hide it's presence. It was a modification significant enough to have caught the notice of a Harley representative, who had taken great interest in what he had done to improve something that had always annoyed the hell out of owners.

Only the fuel tank featured any colour and this is the part that marked the machine as his more than any other. A thread of metallic silver and blue could be seen shining against the black, but only if you caught just the right light to see it. If you stood in the right position long enough, your eyes could make out a picture, of which many had talked about, but few knew what it really meant. At first glance, it looked like a snow laced mountain, but as you looked closer, your eyes would find the outline of a wolf, his magnificent silver throat turned to the sky. Down the mane of silver blended the shadings of another wolf, this one with its body curled so that its face could not be seen. Although the wolves captured the eye of the observer, the picture that faded down to disappear into the chrome beneath was often missed. For just faintly, there was the outline of a deer, and if you followed its line, its face was turned toward the headlight before it and within its rigid body and eyes, stood fear.

The image was both beautiful and haunting at the same time. Some silently wondered if it was a woman which darkened his soul, looking for answers in the image of the wolf that was buried within the mane of the larger animal, but there was not a person alive that knew for sure. Coupled with the buckhorn handlebars, which Vin had never really liked, but for some reason was about the only thing he left on the bike when he'd bought it from the previous owner, the bike seemed every bit the steed of a hunter. With Vin's own silence and quietly dangerous presence, it was easy to think of him as the lone wolf among the pack, even though that is not what being in the club was supposed to be about; it was about brotherhood. But for all his silent ways, his 'brothers' back in Texas trusted him to back them up, well enough that they had voted him in, but he was still not a man you knew well, for he did not let anybody know him well, it was that simple.

Bounce eyed the Texan getting off his bike and knew he had just ridden in from the main chapter a few days ago. They'd met numerous times on runs across the country in the past year, but he'd never really spoken to him before, for Vincent Turner had a reputation for unnerving men with his silence. The clubs Enforcer back in Texas had nicknamed him `The Hangman' after his very first professional fight, although it had never really seemed to fit him.

He was not a big man, but there was something promising and deadly in his lithe frame and silent way… and he was smart, it came through loud and clear in his fighting. His nickname had been given for the way he often studied his opponent, letting him come to him first, letting him `hang' himself when he did, for he was always ready with the right approach to silence him. A hangman's job was to be an executioner, but to remain in the background. That was something Turner did to perfection.

The two men nodded in greeting and `Bounce' eyed the fading bruises on the other's face, knowing how they'd gotten there, before looking at the patch on his jacket that showed he had done time as he passed. The door was opened to the newcomer, looking forward to getting in out of the cold rain and he moved up the steps inside the door, giving his long wet hair a slight shake as he walked, thankful for the thick leather jacket, which kept him warm. Often, it seemed to him, his whole life had been one steady stream of rain.

He entered the wide bar, his hard blue eyes taking in every corner of the room as he crossed to the wooden stools and leant on the counter, running a hand across the harsh growth of beard on his face, much too long for his liking. He did not bother with a full beard, he found it annoying when he trained and sweated so often, but he found that going clean shaven made him look far too young around the other members of the club. His body language spoke of calm and ease, but he had already proved himself a man not to be toyed with many times over since he had first started hanging around the club and later become a probate. He shifted his weight from his stiff right leg and kept his left hand in the pocket of his jacket. These were conscious gestures. His knee had not healed completely from the shattering blow he'd been dealt when he'd been beaten back in Texas and his ribs were still tender even after all these weeks. He left his hand in his pocket to protect them, without giving away his vulnerability.

"Turner, where the fuck've you been?"

Vin turned, casting impassive blue eyes over the massive man who had approached him from the other end of the bar. His barrel-shaped stomach preceded him by a foot and his blonde beard was long and unkempt.

"Keg…" he said in greeting, his voice soft and low as always, grating past his throat as if scratching through his beard. "I keep ya waitin'?" There was no apology in his tone.

The two men eyed each other, staring each other down. They had not seen each other since they were in prison together back in Texas. There was a moment of tension in the bar. `Keg', so named for the shape of his stomach and the means of consumption by which it had achieved such proportion, had been out of town for a few months and Turner had only arrived that week. No-one could be certain what the current state of their friendship was. While Keg almost doubled the leaner man in size, all knew that `The Hangman' was not someone to take on lightly. It was told he had killed a guard whilst in prison, but had not been caught in the act and it had been ruled an accidental death. No one had ever asked him about this, therefore the rumours had provided the answers to fill the void.

And then suddenly the larger man grinned and grabbed Turner in a fast, hard clench of an arm-length greeting, pushing him back again and demanding bourbon for the occasion. The other men in the bar returned to their conversations and to the cheap women that worked the room, as Vin struggled not to show the pain the gesture caused him as his ribs were squeezed.

"You stop to check your hair?" Keg asked him with a grin, knowing the grief his old friend went through with good looks that had often seen him called `pretty boy' in prison, although no-one had dared mess with either of them, in fear of their affiliation with biker outlaws who effectively ran the prison system.

Vin threw the larger man a sideways glance. "Fall off yer bike again?" he countered.

Keg's smile only grew as their drinks came. He liked Turner, had done since they were in juvenile detention together as kids. He wasn't a man who said much, never had been, but if you got to know him well enough, you could joke around with him and he was a good friend to have. He'd been a tough nut even back then, and he'd been pleased when they'd met up again only a few years before in Texas.

"Like I've explained before, I didn't fall off my fuckin' bike, the chain snapped."

Vin gave a slight snort as he took a drink, the sweet smell of the bourbon welcome after the cold ride. "That ain't how I heard it." He studied his old friend as he let the fiery drink slide slowly down his throat and decided he looked exactly the same since he'd last seen him, the day he'd gotten out three months before his own release. That was before he'd even been accepted as a full member of the club. He knew it meant a lot to Keg that he had joined and knowing that, he always tended to get a tight feeling in his stomach at the thought of him finding out his real reasons for signing up.

"Nice face paint," Keg told him, referring to his still fading bruises.

He didn't respond. Everyone in the club knew how he'd gotten them, from one end of the country to the other – and beyond - word spread fast amongst the men. They all knew about the FBI bust and that he'd taken his licks like everyone else. He knew it had earned him respect from a lot of the men. Some even considered you were not truly initiated into the ranks until you'd taken a beating from the club Enforcer.

The bartender approached them and nodded to Keg. "Chooks wants you upstairs."

Keg nodded and sculled the rest of his drink, slapping Vin on the back. "Back in a sec, _Hangman_," he grinned and Vin narrowed his eyes in response. It was weird to speak to someone you hadn't seen in a long while years after a nickname had taken root; it did not have a place that fit.

He leant on the bar and waited in silence, ignoring the bartender's poorly disguised scrutiny as he nursed his drink. He was in tune with everything going on around him, but did not engage in any conversation. Several times he was approached by the working women in the room, their faces hopeful as their hands reached out to entice their prey. He told them perhaps another time and they turned away disappointed.

Finally Keg returned and nodded to the door.

"Let's go, got a job to do. You owe me a few favours."

Vin raised an eyebrow as he pushed away from the wooden frame with his hip. "How ya figure that?"

As they crossed to the door again, Keg considered the question. "Well, there was that time that Russian guy had you bailed up in your pen…Actually, I think they were brothers weren't they?"

Vin remembered the giant Russians well. They had repeatedly blamed him for being responsible for their incarceration, for reasons entirely unknown to him. An altercation was long-overdue by the time it had happened. Keg had entered the scene just in time to find Vin cleaning the blood off his fists with the Russian's own shirt. He gave a short huff of disbelief. "Yeah, thanks for helping me shut the door behind them."

Keg smiled then. "Actually sorry I missed the show on that one..."

Vin got on his bike and leant forward to put his key in the ignition, not too happy about going back out in the rain. Any further conversation was cut off as he set his ignition switch to run and pressed the start button, instantly hearing the responding rumble as his motor kicked to life once more with a plume of exhaust in the cold air. The noise was echoed by the roar of Keg's bike as the widely-girthed man eased himself into his gun fighter seat and started his own engine, bringing the customised drag pipes of his Low Rider to life an instant before wheeling off out into the dark street.

Vin watched the light of the neon sign reflect off the detachable windshield of Keg's bike as he was left behind, waiting a moment to let the oil cruise its way through the motor before walking his own rumbling machine backwards out into the rain. His right knee strained to push the heavy weight back up the slight incline of the road until he was facing the direction Keg had gone and he cursed himself for not having backed it in when he'd parked in the first place. He'd just wanted to get out of the rain, not thinking he'd be heading out again so soon.

He snapped the toe of his left boot down and felt the bike jerk into first gear with a loud clunk, heading out into the street with a lazy turn of acceleration, seeing the red tail light that pinpointed Keg like a target up ahead in the distance.

A few minutes passed before he came up alongside the teal and silver Harley that Keg had stolen years before from the garage of a retired businessman. Like his own bike, Keg's machine did not reflect much of its original state, having been chopped and changed over the years. The fact that it had remained the greenish colour had many perplexed and had been a constant source of taunting. "A disturbing colour' was the official consensus published on the club's private web site one year after a Christmas run up the coast. What no-one knew was that Keg had been about to have the bike sprayed a gun metal grey the next week after the run, but after that comment, he'd left it the stock colour on principle. As for the brother who'd put the comment in writing, well he'd been instantly placed on the top of Keg's shit list - and had found his own bike missing shortly after the offending words were published. He did get it back though, as fast as the US postal service could deliver it back to him in it's individually portioned state. Being the good soul that he is, Keg had kindly outlined a map showing where the handle bars could go.

They both clicked up into neutral as they approached a red light and let their legs steady them as they waited for it to change, stopping for no other reason than that they encountered traffic. Keg grinned over to him through the rain, his hand's still hanging from his ape-bars. He had to speak loudly to be heard over their engines.

"Been a while since we rode together."

Vin nodded, he'd just been thinking the same thing. "Not since that Christmas run."

A car pulled up behind them and the light went green, but it was at that moment that Keg stalled his bike, letting his clutch out too quickly for the cold motor and causing it to jerk to a dead halt. His expression went from confusion to self-directed anger in a flash as he watched Vin take off, not having realised what had happened.

It was the sound of a loud horn beeping that had the lean Texan looking back in his side mirror to see a frustrated driver stuck behind Keg, stalled at the lights. He knew that Keg would never allow a man to honk his horn at him and walk away with no consequence and so quickly did a u-turn, not easy on the narrow street on a bike that size, heading back through the lights once more.

By the time he reached them, the middle-aged man was glaring out from behind his wheel at Keg, probably itching to get home to his wife and kids after a long day, not realising he had just signed on for an actual fight when his impatience had sent his hand to his car-horn.

Keg was off his bike and Vin knew he couldn't stop him from approaching the car, he could only hope the man inside would see some sense and apologise for his hasty horn action. But as the man rolled his window down, he clearly read the determination and misplaced courage on the pale face and his heart sank even as he heard Keg's threatening words.

"You stupid fuck, how 'bout I ram that horn up your ass for you and you can honk it all the way to the hospital?"

"The light was green and you were just sitting there."

Keg turned and looked back at Vin as he approached, shaking his head as if to say 'can you believe this guy?!', as he moved up to the window.

Vin also knew Keg was checking that he had his back. You backed your brothers, that was that. If for one moment he hesitated to do that, his life as a brother, no matter the facade it really was, was over.

He cut his engine but remained seated, willing the man to back down and reverse his car the hell out of there.

"Get out of the car." Keg ordered.

Suddenly, the man inside looked back at Vin, then slowly back at Keg and finally, Vin saw that he understood what he'd started. _'Stay in the car,'_ he willed him silently. ' Reverse and back the hell away.' He'd purposely left him enough room to do just that.

"Get the fuck out of the car!" Keg repeated, his voice raising. "You wanna beep at me and start a conversation? Come out here an' talk."

"I'm not getting – _OUT!_"

His last word was a shout of alarm as he was hauled by his shirt, through the very window he had bravely opened, and dragged out onto the pavement.

'_Fuck_,'Vin thought, pissed off at having to get off his bike again, _'you stupid, stupid bastard.'_ But the 'conversation' was over before it really began. With one punch, Keg sent the man to the road, cheap suit rustling to the blackened ground.

Keg nudged the fallen man with the toe of his boot and looked a little disappointed as he looked up at Vin who had walked up beside them. "Reckon he won't be usin' that horn any time soon..."

Vin saw his face light up as he leaned into the car and pulled a lever. The large man stepped up and lifted the hood, sticking his head under it. He heard a slight grunt as he watched the wiring to the horn be ripped out a second before the car's alarm system kicked in. Keg hesitated then, apparently considering ripping out more, before shaking his head and shutting the hood again, wincing at the high pitched drill of the alarm.

"Ya finished?" Vin asked dryly, but loudly to be heard over the noise.

Keg just grinned his trademark grin when he was up to no good. "Am now."

The large man didn't look back as he walked back to his bike, mounted and again started his engine. Vin gave the fallen man one last look, seeing that he was already moving and that the alarm and accompanying hazard lights would be enough to stop anyone running him over on the street, before heading back to his own bike and following Keg on through the lights, leaving the incident behind them.

A few minutes later and they were again stopped at a set of lights when Vin had the depressing thought of just how many intersections he would be forced to endure in the next weeks. He clicked his gear lever up to neutral and relieved his left hand of the clutch, flexing his cold fingers and already dreaming of the long, open ride back to Texas. He looked at Keg and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"What?" The larger man said suspiciously as he looked back, his face daring him to say anything.

His grin only grew. The opposing light changed to amber and he once again clicked down to first with a simultaneous short burst of the throttle to avoid the short jolt of the gear moving. He spoke innocently to the pugilistic man over the noise of their engines. "Jist wonderin' if yer gonna stall it again..."

He took off then on the green light, not hearing the shouted curse yelled at his back. Stalling your bike was an amateurish thing to do by any standard - and cause for incessant recrimination. Keg knew that, but had no intention of admitting to anything.

Keg caught up to him a minute later and casually overtook with a challenging grin as he passed. Unable to help himself, Vin dropped down a gear and gunned his own bike, taking the lead again before the next curve in the road. Over the next minutes the noise of their accelerated engines reverberated off the cold walls of the buildings as they raced each other through the city, letting the gears stretch out and not backing off as they hit a wide bend in the road before straightening out for a long stretch. Their bikes weren't made for city manoeuvring, but they were both skilled riders who knew their bikes like they were extensions of their own bodies.

A short while later they pulled into the undercover parking lot of a massive building that Vin had seen only once before. DV8 City. Cutting his engine, he ignored the looks of young party goers who he knew from experience were both shit-scared and fascinated by them at the same time.

"You gonna let me in on this plan?" He finally asked, running his hands through his soaked hair again as left their bikes behind and headed toward the building.

Keg led him towards a back entrance. "Gotta do a little errand. There's a bartender just signed on a few days ago needs taking care of. The Blade wants to send him and the guy who hired him a message." He grinned at Vin then, "We're the message."

Vin's stomach clenched at the mention of the local club president but he managed to keep the bitterness from his voice. He knew too well the reason why the man had earned that name. "Still playin' henchman? Thought ya mighta gotten a promotion by now."

Again the blonde giant's grin flashed and again he slapped Vin on the back as he ushered him inside a back door. "I volunteered."

"What's the problem with the new guy?"

Keg grinned at him. "We don't employ niggers in our clubs."

With his back to Keg Vin closed his eyes for a brief moment with a slight shake of his head. This was another part of the club he despised. He couldn't say he hated it any more than its treatment of women, it was just one of the many aspects of their creed that he could not tolerate. But he said nothing, merely let Keg take the lead and followed him down the long hall that greeted them inside, which brought them to two security guards who nodded as they approached. They were associate members, all security in the building were carefully hand-picked.

"Boys," Keg greeted, meaning the term literally as he eyed the two virtual kids. They looked barely twenty one.

"Hey, you're the Hangman," one of the young men addressed Vin who did not reply, causing the youth to regret his outburst instantly. You didn't just speak without thinking to a Joker. He sniffed reflexively and Vin glanced at his eyes, noticing the large pupils and nervous stance.

"Where's the nigger bartender?" Keg asked, moving past them.

The two youths looked at each other a second. "The new one?" one asked.

Keg turned back sharply. "There's more than one?"

"Well, no…"

He gave a huff of impatience. "Then it's pretty simple, the only nigger bartender – where is he?" he walked over to a medical kit on the wall and used a key to open it, rummaging inside as they answered him.

"He's up in the club, the VIP ain't open yet," one of them answered, then seeing what Keg was looking for he stopped him. "Hey man, there's nothing in there, here," he dug in the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear zip-lock bag.

Keg took it from him with no word of thanks and moved to a bench in the corner, not bothering to ask Vin to join him. He hadn't seen him say yes to anything since they were practically kids. He indicated the medical kit. "That should be stocked."

"Yeah, it will be, Wizz's droppin' some stuff off later."

Vin had no idea who Wizz was and didn't care. His thoughts were on the bartender he would soon be meeting up with as he watched Keg cut up the powder with a practiced motion. To this scene his face showed passive disinterest. It was nothing new to him. He'd brought a lot of men down during his time with the NTA, but he'd had to let a lot of things slide to get the bigger fish. If it came the day when he was discovered, a rat among their ranks, his life was truly over and one thing he knew for certain, it wasn't going to be for some small-time drug bust, not when he was hunting for the leader of the pack.

In moments when he was truly honest with himself, he knew that the crimes that these men involved themselves in were a convenient way of him justifying his position; that the tip-offs and busts he handed over to his department were his means of appeasing his superiors so that he could reach his real objective. If they weren't committing crimes like manufacturing drugs, he wouldn't be paid to be amongst them... but he didn't dwell on those insights too often.

He studied Keg, watching as the unkempt head of hair lifted to emit an extended loud sniff. For all of Keg's faults, Vin knew that his life had not been an easy one. He was not a particularly bad man. He liked to play the big, bad biker well enough, but Vin knew it was a need to belong to something that had drawn him to the club. He wouldn't call him a friend, exactly, although he was definitely someone he could trust with his life. The fact was they had a lot of history together and a part of him understood why he was how he was.

Grabbing a water bottle from one of the kids, the object of his thoughts walked back, taking a drink to clear the bitter taste from his throat. He pocketed his still tightly rolled up twenty, along with the bag, smirking at the kid's frown as he passed him.

"Let's do this," he said to Vin, then stopped and turned back to the younger men. "If you two want to have some fun, stick around down here." He then turned to Vin. "We'll bring him down here and deal with him out back."


	4. Truth and Perception

**Part 4. Truth and Perception**

_I see the world, feel the chill_

_Which way to go, window sill_

_I see the world's on a rocking horse of time_

_I see the birds in the rain_

_Oh, dear dad, can you see me now_

_I am myself, like you somehow_

_I'll ride the wave where it takes me_

_I'll hold the pain... Release me..._

_From** RELEASE. (Pearl Jam)**_

Chris took a sip of his whiskey and ignored the woman standing next to him. He and Buck had ordered drinks for appearances sakes, although had come to soon realise that they seemed to be about the only ones drinking. The woman looked well dressed and professional, yet her vacant gaze spoke of a mind not presently there. She smiled at him, an all-encompassing smile that told him she thought he was fine – that the universe in its entirety was just fine in fact… as long as her pill was still breaking down in her stomach. He looked at Buck who just shook his head slightly. The woman had already hugged him for a full minute before a friend had collected her after she'd drifted over from the packed dance floor.

In the half hour they had sat at the bar, they had seen more money change hands around the rooms than behind the bars – and they hadn't reached the VIP room yet. They avoided looking at Nathan as he oversaw the huge amount of staff attending the massive, long bar that curved around half the floor. Neither envied him this particular job, he was run off his feet.

"I gotta ask it," Buck spoke right into Chris's ear, it was the only way to be heard over the repetitive thump of the music permeating through every corner of the room. "How the hell can they be bothered with this? You can't even get a woman's name over this noise and that ain't even dancing," he jerked a derisive thumb at a stocky, well-built youth dancing, in Buck's opinion, as though he were having some kind of seizure. He was completely ignoring the woman dancing opposite him, too caught up in his own private beat. He knew many of them would keep on dancing until dawn and he just didn't get the attraction. Many danced alone, in their own world and that defeated the entire purpose of the action to him. There were a few stuck like glue to

partners of either sex, but they were mostly just hugging each other. Occasionally someone would stop to massage a partners shoulders when the music lulled.

Chris only shrugged as he turned to the floor again, catching sight of a woman biting a pill in half and giving the remainder to a friend, neither apparently concerned with being caught in the act as they chased the drug down with a drink of water. It wasn't the dancing until dawn that he didn't get, the drugs let them do that, it was the desire to put yourself through an emotional washing machine every day. He'd known people that couldn't be approached until mid week when they were finally getting over the comedown of the previous weekend. He didn't see the attraction in that, but he was the first to admit, he wasn't a young kid any more, caught in a social scene… and he was smart enough to know that those out there looking for something were not going to find it like that. He hadn't found any answers in the bottom of a bottle and he certainly hadn't found them any other way.

As he scanned the floor, he saw two men come up the stairs and enter the room. Their clothes marked them as Jokers immediately and the crowd parted almost effortlessly as they crossed the room. One of the men looked like he'd been in a week-long brawl, with an obvious limp marking his walk. The other, much larger man, looked like he was ready to _start_ a brawl. He felt Buck tense slightly beside him and they both continued to watch the men discreetly.

Vin eyed the room with a cool eye. He picked out the black bartender and then caught the two cops at the bar eyeing them over, but Keg didn't seem to notice. The ungraceful man had found a beat drumming into his stomach and was doing a weird kind of half dance as they moved to the bar.

A few steps beyond the dance floor, a woman turned and moved in front of them and Vin took in her massively dilated pupils and pale skin. She oozed sensuality as she began to dance before him, at first just gently swaying, before pressing herself forward to feel the hard line of him against her, her hand tangling itself in his hair as she moaned in delight with at texture of it in her fingers. Before he knew what was happening her mouth was on his and he was engaged in a hungry, albeit one-sided kiss, that effectively stopped him in his tracks.

He heard Keg chuckling beside him as he pulled back from her. Looking over the girl's shoulder he met the curious eye of one of the cops he'd seen as he'd walked in. Slowly disengaging himself from the woman, he had the bizarre, yet strong feeling that he was looking at an old friend; like his life was about to take a serious turn.

He gently stepped back from the woman, smiling at her pretty face as he turned her around to Keg, letting him deal with her. He couldn't help but grin as the woman endured the untimely shuffling of clumsy boots for all of five seconds before drifting back into the crowd with a last, longing look back at him.

Keg looked at him as if to say, 'I don't get it,' and Vin gave him a half grin as he moved towards the bar.

"Drinks first, then we take care of business," Keg suggested and Vin nodded, moving in and leaning on the counter next to the blonde man, listening to the conversations around him casually as Keg indicated he was going to speak to some men he knew in the corner and wandered off.

"Hey cowboy, move aside if you're not getting a drink!"

Chris did not look at the tall man who had walked up beside him and spoken loudly to get his attention, but Vin did. He looked to be in his early twenties, his body screaming his agitation and pent up energy. He looked wired and Vin guessed it was likely speed giving him his edge.

"He just call me a cowboy?" came a voice so quietly menacing Vin was taken by surprise. Even though the words seemed casual and the man's body language remained completely relaxed, there was the promise of absolute violence in his tone.

"Think he did," Buck answered, not looking as he sipped his drink.

The tone of the second cop's voice and the quirk of his lip told Vin this wasn't the first time these two had played this scene out.

Chris finally looked up at the youth. "You just call me a cowboy, son?"

Buck chuckled, looking up now and winking at the youth. "He hates that."

The young man blinked, probably for the first time in hours. Through his sharpened focus he saw two green eyes, promising him death. He stepped back, into his friends, then simply turned and left and still Larabee did not move.

Buck chuckled softly again as Vin leant in to order a drink and a bartender approached him quickly, ignoring all the other customers waiting in order to serve him first. Protests were cut off as people saw it was a biker ordering the drink. It was common knowledge that they ran the place, not to mention the entire nightlife in the city.

"Get ya a drink, 'Cowboy'?" he asked the cop beside him quietly, yet deliberately, before looking at him with mischief in his eyes. "Or don't ya drink on duty?"

Buck had not heard the Texan's quiet question but Chris was shocked and trying not to show it. He turned his head and looked sideways at the man that he realised was a lot younger than he had at first thought. Now that he was closer, he could see the bruises that marred his skin in detail. It was strange, but he found himself smile at his audacity, at the look of complete innocence on his unshaven face. The man knew he was a cop, had known the second he had entered the room, he realised. There was something in his startlingly clear blue eyes that spoke of intelligence, but there was something else too; his eyes spoke of integrity, something he had not expected to see in the eyes of a biker. He lifted the still full glass in his hands and the long haired man smiled back.

"Ah… well, jist one whiskey then, thanks…" Vin read the girls name badge behind the bar, "Glitter," he gave her a lazy grin and she found herself blushing hard as she turned away, flustered. His thick Texan accent had reached her like warm honey in its soft request amongst a sea of shouting demands.

This caught Buck's full attention and he finally eyed the lightweight that had come up to stand next to them. _Scruffy biker… what the hell did women see in men like that?_

Keg came back and tapped Vin on the back, waiting as he turned with his drink. "I'm ready, just gotta take a piss." He eyed Buck and Chris before moving off, not waiting for a reply.

Vin sipped his drink casually. "Lotta business tonight," he said to Chris. He glanced at him and Chris saw his eyes were intense with their need to communicate a message. "'Lot goin' on," he continued, his voice still completely conversational.

Chris's eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced again at the biker's profile, seeing the way he leant his right elbow on the bar, right leg resting on the chrome rail at their feet, keeping weight off his injured leg. He gave only a short nod.

"That there is."

A full minute went by as they drank in silence, Vin studying the men flanking him in the reflection of the mirror before he finally saw Keg shifting his hefty weight back through the crowded room. He resumed his one-sided conversation.

"Seems ta me some people don't know where they're not wanted."

Chris glanced at him again and noticed the direction that his gaze had taken with Buck, too, looking across the bar. He was looking at Nathan...

"What people are those, exactly?" Buck asked him, having an idea and getting angry about it. He knew the Jokers were racist bastards.

Vin shrugged, keeping his tone light and conversational, still directing his words toward the blonde man. Some instinct was telling him that he could trust him to do what was needed. "Black man mixin' 'mongst decent white folk like this can get some people mighty riled. Only a matter'a time `fore someone takes exception to it." With that he looked again at Chris and pushed off the bar. "Nice meetin' ya fella's, got some business downstairs ta take care of."

Keg walked up as Buck stepped forward to voice a passionate protest, barely able to get his words out so angry was he at the racist slur directed at Nathan.

"Now wait a second there, Tex –"

"Buck."

Buck looked at Chris, his anger festering at the biker's comments and wanting to act, but there was a warning in his old friend's face that he had long learned to heed.

"Problem, fella's?" Keg asked, eyeing the two men and looking at Vin, ready to fight if he needed to.

Vin grinned. "Nope, these boys didn't like m'joke is all."

Buck watched the men walk off, only the larger one looking back and turned to Chris, waiting for an explanation.

"He was warning us. They're here for Nathan." Chris watched the lean biker walk off, noticing for the first time that he was also guarding his side as he moved through the crowded floor. The man was sporting more than one injury despite his best attempts to cover them.

"Nathan..." Buck looked at Vin's retreating back. "Why would he tell you?"

Chris put his still full glass on the bar as he continued to watch the two bikers walk away. "He clocked us the second he walked in." There was a light smile on his lips at that knowledge.

Buck was surprised by that, but not entirely bothered. He and Chris weren't going undercover on this one, but it was still unnerving someone had pegged them so quickly. He looked at Chris, about to speak when Chris cut him off.

"No way I look like a cop, must be your moustache," he said, beating Buck to it as he studied the red symbols on the back of the bikers' jackets. The skull and crossbones sat above the name of the club, red eyes peering out and watching their backs as they moved. It was an intimidating image.

To their surprise they saw the leather-clad men approach Ezra who had just come up the stairs. They could not hear what they were saying but there were short looks thrown Nathan's way. Both ATF agents were thinking the same thing, just why had the Texan warned them, knowing that they would try and stop what was about to happen.

"He's setting us up," Buck concluded aloud.

Chris had considered the same thing, but there was something telling him that wasn't the case. It was in the man's eyes as he'd looked at him, even before he had approached the bar. From the first second he'd spotted him disentangling himself from the woman on the dance floor, he'd had a strange feeling of familiarity. Why that was he didn't know, but he couldn't ignore it.

..

Vin eyed the smooth talking club manager in front of him, trying to read his expression. He relied on his instincts about people, but this man was a mystery. He seemed to fit his role easily, as if he were born to mediate problems and turn them to his own gain. He was definitely a shrewd man, you didn't get to manage a place like this without being talented, but there was also something a little false about him, he thought. He felt the hatred dripping from him, sliding across the space between them like a tangible thing, even while his face betrayed nothing.

"Gentlemen, I can assure you, this matter will be dealt with immediately," they were informed, the man's unhurried voice thick with a southern drawl.

Keg cut him off and Vin didn't need to look at the large man to know how serious his face would be. When he wanted to be, he was damn intimidating and his size was only a part of it. "Damn right it will. We're just being courteous in letting you know."

Ezra sighed inwardly, knowing Chris and Buck were only across the room, but not liking the situation at all. He hadn't had to deal with the gang alone before, Mitri usually took care of that and he had not been prepared for them to target Nathan. He should have known they would take exception to his working there, they all should have considered that, but it was he who had gotten him in, therefore he had to do everything he could to settle the situation - without bloodshed if possible. Yet there was a part of him that wanted to indulge his urge to act violently. To be so close to the men that he hated above all others... it was taking pure restraint to hold himself back.

"I understand you have your own effective methods of –"

Keg leant in close, right into the smaller man's personal space. "Maybe you didn't hear me. We'll be taking care of this little problem for you." He stepped back, nodding to Vin to move off. "Say hi to your boss for me."

Vin hesitated only a second but it was enough time for Ezra to meet his eye and he paused, trying to read what he saw there. It had been a myriad of things all projected in a flash, but Ezra was too caught up in his own rush of adrenaline to decipher any of them.

Vin walked with Keg over to the bar door, still trying to understand why he felt compelled to reassure the southerner. Emotions were not something he could afford to give reign to in a situation like this. He knew nothing about the club manager, but he was impressed that he had tried to intervene on behalf of his staff. Something told him he, too, could be trusted, despite all outward appearances.

A quick glance in the mirror assured him of that, telling him that his instincts were correct. The manager was looking back at the cops still seated across the room. That was it then, he thought and was a little relieved his trust had not been misguided. He was a cop too, or an informant at least. He was impressed at their operation, impressed that the local authorities were targeting these criminals. He almost laughed at that. That meant him, didn't it? The longer he lived the life, the more the line blurred. Lately he had begun to wonder if things would ever be clear again.

They approached the bar manager and Keg opened the lid of the bar to enter.

"Can I help you?" Nathan asked, eyeing the two rough men entering his space.

"The three of us need to take a little walk."

Despite himself Nathan's eyes narrowed as he looked from one biker to the other, his anger surfacing. He tried not to look for his team around the room, knowing they were there. He hadn't been with them all that long, but they were there, he trusted them to be watching his back.

"And why would that be?" he asked, stalling.

Keg reached over the bar and grabbed the front of Nathan's shirt. "Let's go."

As he was pulled out of the bar forcibly, Nathan's eyes flicked to Vin and again the Texan felt his stomach clench. He'd just seen himself through the other man's eyes. He knew what he was thinking, what they were all thinking: that he was a racist thug - a violent criminal who terrorised people. He knew that the men in the gang saw people's reactions as respect, but he knew it for what it was. Those smart enough to know better were disgusted by them. They gave them a wide berth out of fear, not respect. They were two entirely different things.

Still, here he stood, playing the part to perfection, seeing the fear and the loathing aimed at him. How far was he at that second from the man he sought most not to become? He felt ashamed in that moment, felt heat course through him and a sickness fall into the pit of his stomach. He looked at his hand that was gripping the bartenders arm and saw another hand, one that had seemed so big as a child. Was it any bigger than his own now? He did not realise Keg had spoken to him until he heard a second shout.

"Hey! What the fuck's wrong with you?!"

He realised he'd stopped moving and that both Keg and the bartender were looking at him. He avoided the probing gaze of the dark man, not wanting to decipher what he really saw there in his eyes. They led their victim across the room, ignoring his attempts to pull free and moved to the stairs, dragging him down as he protested all the way.

"Look, I'm sure we can sort this out, but not if I don't know –"

Suddenly Nathan was slammed against the wall of the stairs, hard. Keg pushed his barrelling stomach right into him and held him in place as he growled into his face. "You don't belong here, that's why. Now shut the fuck up before I forget myself and start the beating now."

Again Nathan glanced at Vin who said nothing, just looked back at him with a neutral expression. They continued down the stairs and down the next flight, Vin lagging behind as his knee protested the descent, before heading for the heavy black door that they had first walked through. They passed security guards on the way down, but no one stopped them. Some just smiled in appreciation of a good ass kicking that was about to take place until finally they met up with one of the younger men they'd passed coming in.

"Alright!" The kid said, smiling at them as they dragged the bartender through.

"Keep watch," Keg told him and dragged Nathan out with him.

Vin followed, his heart beginning to pick up its pace. He'd given those cops enough warning, hadn't he?

..

As Nathan was forced from the room, Chris and Buck looked briefly toward Ezra who moved off, silently leading the way. After a moment they followed as discreetly as possible, for there were cameras everywhere, but they knew they had to hurry. As they reached the bottom level they saw Ezra entering a black door that was hard to spot against the dark wall, but as they made to follow they were stopped.

"Sorry guys, I've been asked to show you out of the building."

Chris eyed the man standing in front of him, another one beside him backing him up. They weren't very old, but they were big, both of them.

"And what fool told you to do that?" he asked softly and saw the kid automatically flick his glance to the door Ezra had gone through, unintentionally telling him that it was Ezra that had given the order.

"Please come with us," the other man said.

"Alright," he agreed, trusting the southerner as he and Buck were led outside. Ezra must have seen this as a way to get them outside quickly, knowing that they could not follow him out the same door.

"Thank you gentlemen," the other man told them as they were left on the steps in the rain beside a long line of people waiting to get in to the venue. Some of them were saturated and for a moment Chris stared at the pale faces peering back at him. He saw a young woman shivering, her short blonde hair plastered to her face as she held her naked arms around herself and met his eyes for a moment. Her makeup had run and gave her eyes a sunken, ghoulish appearance. It was madness, the whole place. It was like a descent into another world.

"Now what?" Buck asked.

"Now we find where they went. Ezra must have known they were taking him outside. Come on."

Chris moved toward the side of the building, just as the rumble of motorbikes could be heard above the rain and the muffled noise of the music from behind them. Four sets of single headlights did a slow pass of the line, four shadowed men perusing the queue, before the lead bike took off and the others followed him around the back of the building. Chris did not bother to look at Buck as they both hurried their pace. The situation had just gotten a lot worse.

Ezra walked out the back door in time to see the larger biker throw Nathan against the concrete wall, the rain having just softened to a thick mist. The smaller, injured man was still not taking part, just watching, standing by. He also saw one of his security men standing guard nearby and knew he could not make him go back inside.

"Gentlemen please. I must protest. This man has done nothing. I employed him, this is my problem."

Keg looked at Ezra with a leering grin. "Get back inside and wait your turn, your times coming soon enough."

Ezra stepped forward again and Keg looked at Vin who moved to cut the Southerner off.

"Go back inside," Vin told him, his tone low. He was telling him with more than his voice to go back inside but just as he spoke there was a roar of engines and they all looked over to see four more bikes coming up out of the undercover car park. They each stopped and words were exchanged that could not be heard over the distance before two of the bikes turned and went back down the ramp, leaving the other two to continue on and pull to a stop beside them in the drizzling rain.

Ezra could have sworn the man blocking him tensed at the sight of the new arrivals.

"Heard there was some fun goin' on here tonight. Need help there boys?"

Keg looked at the newcomers, Decker and Flea, two old friends and smiled. "No, but you're just in time if you want to play."

The two men approached slowly and looked at Vin, none saying a word for a moment. They were older than him by some years, but big men, obviously men who liked this part of their job very much. Ezra felt the tension in the man beside him, though he appeared outwardly calm, hard almost. His body language had changed, ever so slightly, as if coiled for defence, although it was something he thought nobody else had noticed.

..

Chris and Buck had moved around the building and also come up through the underground car park, moving back into the shadows as two of the bikes that had passed them a moment before came rumbling back down the ramp towards the front of the building and passed them again on their way out. With the sound of the bikes receding, they pressed forward silently into the settling quiet, towards the back entrance, sticking to the shadows and hidden from sight until they were rewarded with the sight of a tense stand-off ahead of them up the ramp. They could make out Nathan and Ezra, surrounded by four bikers, lit by the overhead light through the shroud of falling haze.

"Well well," Decker said, looking Vin over with an ugly smile. "Look who's walkin' again."

Vin's eyes were hard but cool as he stared back, saying nothing.

Keg, surprised, looked briefly over his shoulder from where he had Nathan bailed against the wall, not

understanding the hostility between his two friends.

Decker reached out a hand and turned Vin's face to his right, making a show of studying his cheek. "I see that's healin' up nice, didn't ruin that pretty face a' yers too much."

Vin pulled his head back, angry. "Next time ya might wanna face me alone."

Decker smiled at Flea then back at Vin, slapping him on his arm to show he meant no offence. "Hey, I'm jist jokin' 'round. Ya took it well, hell that's the first time Sugar's asked me ta step in fer him ta hand out a punishment. Ya really pissed people off with that Fed bust."

As they crept even further forward, Chris heard the exchange and began to feel the pieces slipping into place. Benning and Murphy had been talking about an FBI bust gone wrong just that day, with Vin Tanner getting punished for it. He looked harder at the profile of the lean man standing in the drizzling rain, his body taut and his jaw hard as he stared back at the man taunting him. He looked at Buck but realised Buck didn't know about the NTF agent he was considering recruiting for their team. It would certainly explain his actions in the bar, but what the hell was he doing here, unannounced and without backup?

Vin's face had become dark. The `Sugar' Decker was referring to was Ray Hopkins, his former trainer and the enforcer of the Devil's Jokers. He'd been given the name due to his role as the punisher of the gang, after the famous boxer Sugar-Ray Leonard. He had known Vin since he was a kid and despite all evidence to the contrary, he'd had a hard time going to work on him over the FBI bust that he'd been held responsible for. Unlike the original Sugar Ray Robinson, Hopkins's style was definitely not as sweet as sugar, his punishment was brutal and severe and where informants were concerned, very exacting. He had asked Decker to step in after only five minutes, pleading illness.

Vin remembered the look the older man had given him as he'd stood down, leaving him to Decker. It was not an apology exactly, more one of regret that he had been put in such a position. He'd stood aside and watched on as Decker had gone to work on him and Vin had thought it a futile gesture, for Decker's punishment had been worse than Sugar's would have been. In the end, Sugar had had to call a stop to it, for Vin had not been aware enough for it to have any further affect. He remembered enduring hours of pain, his chest on fire and blood dripping down his face like hard earned sweat as another two 'brothers' had held him upright. He'd questioned everything that day, questioned whether it was justice or vengeance that he really sought, questioned what ends he would go to to see it through. How far was too far before he could not return? What would he really do when he finally came face to face with the man he had pictured every day since he'd ridden away and left him curled in the dirt with his mother's blood raining down on him from above?

In the end, he could do little more than try not to choke on the blood pooling into his mouth, pouring from his nose before waking up in the hospital, handcuffed to a bed for no other reason than he was a potential outlaw and they were taking no chances with him.

That beating had cost him more than pain, it had cost him his case. Lomely had refused to let him go back in after he'd seen him in the hospital and despite all of Vin's arguments he'd flat out refused to budge. He'd gone so far as to organise for him to go on an exchange to Denver for three months. Vin had tried to explain to him that you just did not walk out of a club like that, you were a member for life, to some extent. Lomely had replied that he had never really been a member of the gang in the first place, then asked Vin whether he actually understood that.

He'd been undercover so long, living the outlaw life day in and day out, Vin had to admit to himself that he'd been losing his objectivity. His goal had never wavered, he wanted to bring the sons of bitches down, one man in particular, and to do that he knew he'd have to go to Denver eventually, but he'd thought he'd have more time to prepare. He'd ingrained himself with his club and it's men back in Texas, but Denver was a whole new ball game.

Perhaps on some level he had avoided the confrontation, knowing Denver was the only end to his quest and yet baulking when the opportunity finally came. Perhaps he was afraid of what he would do, what it would take to put his demons to rest permanently. Whatever the basis for his turmoil, he'd been forced to give in and agree to go, but he'd never intended to step back and 'regather himself', as Lomely had put it.

Once he'd committed himself to this final stage of his life long journey, his mind had begun to take action. He'd asked for a weeks leave, intending to scope out the city before he made his presence known to the DEA, but when he'd told the Joker's he wanted to go to Denver, they had insisted he check in with the chapter straight away, just as he'd known they would. He knew Lomely would be highly pissed at him if he knew he'd already made contact, but Vin had needed to keep his options open and he just couldn't make Lomely see the truth; you did not step out of that life of a sudden, unless you were dead or prepared to relocate to another country to hide out for the rest of your natural life.

The fact was, Vin Tanner had a goal and no one was going to get in the way of that, not until he'd seen it finished, one way or another. He'd come too far and been through too much to let it go now, no matter the consequences. He'd formulated a plan on the long ride and he was determined to put it in action, starting tonight. He was going to make some noise so that his father heard about it, then he was going to use his time in Denver to weave his way into his circle of trusted allies - and bring him down from the inside...

But right now he had more immediate hurdles. He wanted to tell the man standing less than a foot from his reach to try him one on one right the hell now, that he'd like to see him in a ring, on _his_ turf, but he reminded himself that it wasn't personal, it was the way the organisation operated. They policed themselves and he had been found guilty. Decker was goading him, but he didn't expect a fight. He was aware of the southerner looking at them curiously.

"So go ahead Keg, show us yer moves," Flea said, moving to lean on the wall by Vin and crossing his arms to watch the show.

Decker nodded towards Nathan and spoke to Vin, "You wanna do the honours?"

"Go 'head," Vin offered, not moving.

Decker smiled and moved to take Nathan's arms to hold him for Keg.

"You need help with that one?" Flea asked Vin, pointing to Ezra.

Vin looked at Ezra in warning. "Nah, we'll save him fer later."

Ezra looked at Vin curiously, he just didn't know what to make of him. He looked the part of the biker and his eyes alone showed he was capable of a coldness beyond even his own, but why did he feel like he was not entirely committed to the outfit? He weighed his options as the big blonde man stepped towards his new team member. The giant thug was pulling back his arm for the first punch to Nathan's head when a voice came from the shadows.

"Let him go."

All eyes turned to the darkness leading down to the car park below ground. There were concrete pillars and gaps enough to conceal an army down there.

_'Stay in the shadow boys,' _Vin thought, _'cos if they see ya, you'd better hope ya kill 'em all or yer dead men.'_

"Who the hell's that?" Flea asked, pushing off the wall with his hip and uncrossing his arms.

"Here, take over," Decker said to Flea, who took over holding Nathan's arms. The two dark-haired bikers looked similar as they passed each other, swapping places. Both were big men, both with dark, untamed hair that was marginally longer than their thick beards.

Decker pulled a gun and loaded it with a sharp movement, aiming towards the source of the voice. "Show yerself!"

"Police! Let him go and back away!" came the shout from the shadows.

Decker laughed, moving to stand beside Vin. With no warning he casually pointed and fired a booming shot at the direction of the voice.

Ezra turned away from the crack of the deafening gunshot that had exploded so close to his head, his ear screaming from the blast as Flea and Keg both laughed. Vin, however, decided to try another tactic.

"What the fuck are ya doin'?" he said, stepping angrily in front of Decker, trying to block another shot once he was sure that there would be no return fire coming their way. He eyed the mean, hard face before him, ready for any response. The man was unpredictable, to say the least.

Decker looked at Vin and then snarled. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doin'? Get the hell out of my way before I fire one at you."

"Ya wanna shoot a cop an' bring the whole force down on us?" he said, injecting as much anger as he could into his words, all the while trying to give the cops a chance to make their move.

Decker merely raised his gun and levelled it between Vin's eyes. "Ya wanna stand here an' let 'em arrest us?" He called out so that his voice could be heard, "Come out an' show yer badges ya pussies!"

Vin shoved the gun away. "Point that thing at me again n'I'll make ya eat the fuckin' thing." It was a quiet, deadly promise.

Chris signalled to Buck to move in. This was it, the shooter was distracted - and not unintentionally if he was right about who the mystery biker was.

For a moment Vin and Decker stood staring at each other in a charged silence before Keg spoke.

"For fuck sakes, does this look like a good time to get into it?" He'd pulled out a knife and was holding it towards Nathan.

"Get out of the way Turner, before I give ya another beatin'… I'll make sure ya don't walk away this time, an' ya don't have yer buddy Sugar ta watch yer back this time."

Vin's eyes stayed on Decker. He'd seen that crazed, hungry look on the man's face once before. He knew then that this wasn't going to end without bloodshed. He wondered at the man's real intention in coming down here. He'd known he was in town, had he rode here tonight to seek him out? "This time I won't be so defenceless ya gutless piece'a shit."

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you two?!" Keg couldn't believe they were getting stuck into each other right there and then. Then again, he hadn't been in Texas when Decker had beaten the hell out of Turner, either. Something told him Decker had gone further than the job required. Even Flea was getting antsy.

"Come on, Deck, save it fer later."

At that moment, the rain chose to pick up its heavy pace again, but the two men staring each other down didn't seem to notice.

"Move," Decker said again to Vin, although he didn't raise his gun this time, "before I make ya."

Vin was a man who chose his fights carefully and was certainly not provoked by such an adolescent taunt, but after a moment more, he deemed this one necessary. He wanted to keep Decker busy, but he had to admit, he had other motives driving him. His lip turned up slightly in anticipation as he offered a soft challenge, feeling like a reckless teenager himself all of a sudden.

"So make me."

Their eye contact held, each slowly shrugging out of their heavy jackets and moving their arms aside to drop them to the ground. Before the weight of leather had finished settling on the ground, like a flag dropped at a race signalling the start, the first punch was thrown.

The sharp blow found its mark at Vin's jaw and the younger man's head snapped to the right, although his legs remained rooted to the spot, facing the source of attack. Large, steady sheets of rain were now illuminated by the overhead light as the deadly battle waged underneath. Vin's eyes remained closed a moment, but an image flashed beneath his lids. The red dragon had reached out towards him again… He had last seen the tattoo months ago, when it had become a source of fascination for him to focus his attention on during his long hours of enduring the punishing blows dealt by Decker's arms. It rode the length of the bikers forearm with its talons reaching down across the massive fingers of his hand.

Chris and Buck watched the fight start as they moved through the shadows towards the light, moving towards Nathan first while the other two were occupied with each other.

In the rising noise of the water hitting the building and the ground, Vin eyes refocused as his head moved back to look at the man who had taken such pleasure in inflicting pain on him back in Texas. As the water drove down his face, dripping from his already wet hair, he did not blink again. He kept his eyes on his prey, slowly turning his head away and spitting out the blood that had already collected in his mouth to the ground. His tongue found the metallic taste on his lips and his eyes promised retribution. Slowly, wolfishly, he grinned, blood glistening on his teeth in the light for a suspended moment before he retaliated with a driving punch of his own that caught the larger man out, although he had been expecting it, for it had come too fast to block.

Decker staggered back from the punch that dealt everything the lean upper body before him had to give and before he could recover, Vin was right on top of him, not allowing him a second of respite as he drove out with a sharp kick that sent him into the wall and caused his gun to drop to the wet ground. Vin quickly kicked it aside and pressed on with his attack, feeling his knee strain under the stress and doing his best to keep it from buckling. It was worth the pain to see Decker hit the wall.

As Decker went down, Flea freed one arm from holding Nathan in order to pull his own gun. He'd spotted Chris and Buck creeping out from their cover and quickly decided to use Nathan as a shield as he turned and fired a shot in their direction.

"Back off or I'll kill him!" he yelled at them, not believing that in the midst of a shootout with the cops, his own men were going at it.

Keg turned towards the direction of Flea's shot and in the blink of an eye, found his situation reversed. Nathan's arm had been freed the second before the biker wielding the knife had turned away and the combat skilled agent had seized his opportunity. He lashed out and gripped the hand holding the knife, pulling it toward him and putting pressure on the fingers, managing to snatch the deadly weapon into his own hand in a lightening fast move that left his attacker stunned. He didn't stop there, as Keg turned back toward him in shock, he sunk the blade deep into his shoulder, causing the biker to howl in pain and step back. Nathan then spun around and broke free of the arm still holding him and faced the other outlaw who was now holding a gun, but had at least lost his human shield.

In his peripheral vision, Vin caught a glimpse of Nathan turning the tables on Keg and realised that he was no mere bartender.

Buck and Chris moved further forward, exposed now and with no cover. There was only one direction they could head as they watched the six men fight, knowing full well how dangerous the situation was. Flea aimed his gun at Ezra as Nathan tried to draw his attention back to him by threatening him with his knife. Keg was now clutching his shoulder, but his pain was fast turning to anger. Chris saw this and knew that the giant of a man would be back in the game at any moment if they didn't intervene.

All the while, he observed the other two bikers now fighting fiercely, the larger one grunting with the effort of the massive blows he aimed at the other, with the leaner man fighting in a calculated, methodical way, using far less energy. His posture was practiced, natural, fluid, despite his injuries. He moved little, turning and following the larger man slowly, whereas the bigger man was fighting out of pure anger and the knowledge that he was stronger and could pack a harder punch.

"Drop it," Chris told Flea, both he and Buck aiming their guns towards him.

"Fuck you, you drop the guns or I'll shoot him." Flea nudged his gun at Ezra, shooting a glance at Nathan, "and back off with that knife, I don't wanna waste a bullet on you but I will."

"How about you drop that gun so we don't waste a body bag," Buck offered.

Flea's scowl deepened. "I drop this gun and you pigs are all over me." He threw a glance at Decker, fighting hard with Turner. What the hell was he thinking, fighting with the man now? He knew his friend had wanted to challenge the young fighter, had relished the opportunity to administer his punishment back in Texas, but he hadn't thought he'd pick such a stupid time to do it. Decker was the one who always handled situations like this. Now he found himself on his own and he didn't like it, not one bit. He shot a glance at Keg, who was also scowling at their fighting brothers. "What the hell are they doin'?!"

Keg didn't look up, just shook his head.

Chris gave his own head a slight shake. "I'm not saying it again, drop your weapon now." There was no room for discussion in the hard stance of his lean frame, nor in the unyielding glare from his eyes. Flea turned to him and they stared each other down across the distance.

Meanwhile Vin found himself shoved backwards as Decker growled at him. "I'm gonna kill you this time you little fuck. Should have done it back in Texas like they wanted me to."

Distracted by the words he caught another sharp right above his left eye, feeling a cut open up as Decker lunged at him. He sidestepped and managed to throw the larger man once more into the wall, but was caught by a strong grip on his arm that brought him crashing down to the ground. He tried to stay focused but his stubborn mind replayed the words he'd just heard. _Who wanted him dead back in Texas?._

Decker grinned, seeing his taunting had worked. "Lucky your friend Sugar Ray stepped in, or you wouldn't have needed the hospital."

Decker managed to manoeuvre the smaller man to the ground where they continued to wrestle. The older man knew he didn't have the skill, nor the energy, to dance around all night and so he fought dirty, like he always did. He managed to get Vin's t-shirt up from the back of his jeans and pulled hard to tug it over his head, where he then punched the exposed, lean stomach, hard. Vin was forced to kick out, once again jarring his recovering knee and causing himself to stumble. He hurriedly pulled back, letting the movement tug his shirt over his head the rest of the way clear, leaving Decker to hold the grey, soaked material in his hands with no advantage while he remained free to advance again. His exposed chest immediately felt the bite of the rain as he faced off with Decker. The still fading bruises around his ribs shadowed his skin under the glow of the glimmering light and the outline of several dark tattoo's were revealed. The bruises were targets, in Decker's mind, areas of easy pain to be exploited.

Doing just that, the bigger man sent a driving punch right into Vin's ribs, causing him to bend forward in an instinctive gesture of self-protection, before the massive force of Decker's body barrelled into him, driving him this time into the hard wall behind him and following up with a terrible punch that knocked the back of his skull into the concrete.

Dazed, for a moment, Vin let another punch through, this one to his stomach and this time he dropped to his knees in a puddle of water. His ribs were on fire, pushing against flesh and muscle as he struggled to simply breathe.

Decker wasted no time and snatched up the gun that had been kicked aside, pouncing once more and kicking Vin the rest of the way to the ground before throwing his weight on top of him, taking his time, secure in the knowledge that he had the gun in his hand and could use it at any point he chose to end it.

His bare back pressing into the wet concrete, Vin watched the gun come down as Decker hit him hard, driving his face to the side. Out of pure instinct his hands rose up to ward off the barrel that was coming down again to aim at his head and they began to fight for possession, each panting and groaning in the effort to get control.

Vin was at a disadvantage, with Decker using his weight to move up and keep him pinned, making a steady effort to trap his arms beneath his knees. The NTF agent knew that once that happened, he would be in serious trouble.

He caught another glimpse to his right and registered Flea aiming to fire at Nathan.

Despite the stand-off taking place around him and the orders of the men to surrender, Keg had stepped towards Nathan and shoved him in the back, towards Flea, satisfied when the black man turned to face him again, while Flea continued to hold his gun on Ezra.

"Last chance, pigs, back off!" he yelled glancing again towards Vin and Decker. He finally lost his patience with the fighting pair. He and Flea were outnumbered without them and needed their help. "YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! BREAK IT UP!" he yelled in frustration.

Chris and Buck both saw that Flea was about to fire. He was backed to the wall and knew it and he wasn't about to go down without taking a shot at them, with Ezra being in his direct line of fire. As both agents were applying pressure to their triggers, however, they watched as Nathan was suddenly shoved from behind and suddenly their aims were unexpectedly blocked.

"Put the gun down and let him go," Chris ordered calmly, trying to subtly realign his position.

In the next second, Flea's eyes squinted. His finger squeezed on his trigger, forcing one deadly bullet to begin its flight out of the chamber.

Chris and Buck both saw his aimed look, watched his hand move and were desperately trying to find a shot that wouldn't hit either Ezra or Nathan when another gunshot rang out, this time from an entirely different direction.

For a moment nobody moved, even Decker paused, keeping his grip on the gun that had just exploded in his hands and turning his head to see where the shot had gone. Then the first gagging noise of a man fighting to breathe rose over the sound of the rain as each came to realise who had been shot.

Flea's eyes were opened wide in shock as his air was instantly cut off. Both hands came to his throat in a futile effort to close the hole that had perforated his windpipe. A terrible, desperate, gargling sound came from his mouth as he staggered backwards and dropped to his knees, still trying to defy the inevitable and live.

Not yet knowing who had fired, Chris turned and saw that the two men on the ground were paused in their struggle for the moment. The smoking gun was held out to the side, still caught in their straining hands as they watched their friend die in the rain.

Decker, however, knew exactly who had fired and he pulled his eyes from the sight of Flea dying to look down at Vin. One minute they'd been struggling for possession and the next the Texan had shifted his weight and purposely moved the gun in Flea's direction. He'd killed Flea on purpose... He knew it beyond any doubt and his eyes widened in rage and spat sudden vengeance as he shouted out his fury.

"MOTHER-FUCKING TRAITOR!"

Vin was satisfied he'd prevented the southerner's death, but in the next instant was fighting for his own life from an overwhelming, powerful force from above that came from a man who's best friend had just been killed and was fortunate enough to have the murderer in his grasp.

In the same instant, Buck and Chris both trained their weapons on Keg who had raised his arms in surrender, more interested in Vin now fighting for his life on the ground than in causing any more trouble for the moment. A jail term meant nothing to him, it was merely another chapter of the club to visit, he would be well looked after. His concern was for what the hell was going on between Decker and Turner – and what in hell had just happened to Flea. He avoided looking at the bleeding man, dying only a few meters from his feet. He knew there was nothing he could do for him. Instead, he tried to work out why Decker had called Vin a traitor, why the fight had just become something beyond furious. If he didn't do something, Decker was going to kill Vin, and that he wouldn't allow.

Buck nodded to Chris, keeping his gun trained on the unresisting Keg. "I got him."

With a nod, Chris looked at Nathan who was moving to see to the dying man on the ground.

"I'm fine," Nathan said, pausing. He pointed to the still fighting men with his hand. "Just stop those two from killing each other - or me," he added wryly. He had no explanations for what he knew, but from the shout of traitor that had come from the larger biker, the shirtless biker had shot the man dying noisily at his feet on purpose and in doing so, had saved his life. Why in hell he would do that, he had no idea, but he was still alive and he wanted to remain that way.

Chris turned to the newly escalated fight, looking for a way to break it up. Both men had blood running down their faces, mingling with the saturating rain that soaked their clothes and skin. He looked to Ezra in question then and the southerner, too, nodded that he was fine.

The smaller man appeared to be losing against the barrage of hits thrown his way. The gun was still wavering between them, dangerously moving with their struggle as Chris held his own gun ready, waiting for an opportunity to put an end to the battle.

Vin was aware of the two cops stepping closer and at that moment, something inside him spurred to renewed life; this was not how it was going to go down. Visions of large, brutal men, using their force to torment another came to his mind. He needed to know that physical strength would not always prevail. Decker needed to know that he could not beat him alone… and so he twisted beneath the massive weight with everything he had, his wounded ribs screaming in protest and stabbing against his lungs as he fought and won to get a leg up and throw his attacker off balance. It was an agile, unexpected move and in an instant he was staggering to his feet, unsteady, but still managing to strike out with his booted foot and dislodge the gun from Decker's hand.

Counteracting his damaged knee by supporting his weight with a hand against the concrete wall, his next kick connected with ribs, followed by another, then another as his mind flashed images of Decker coming at him, with his fists raised and striking out at him for endless hours until he was senseless with the pain. His knee was then forgotten, both hands free now as he moved to deliver pain and retribution for a time long ago when his mother lay writhing beneath the massive, dirty bulk of the brutal men that had killed her. The dragon was snapped back as Vin's foot broke the bone of the wrist and then he did not see Decker's face before him, he saw a torrent of blood creeping slowly across battered floorboards, dripping down between the cracks to the cold earth beneath… It was only when he felt a hand on his arm that he jerked from the intrusive touch and spun to the new source of attack, his fist pulled back in preparation to fight, his chest heaving with the need to find oxygen.

Chris watched as wild blue eyes, as stormy as the overhead sky and filled with more than simple fury, bore into his own, taking a moment to focus and see his face, so caught up were they in his battle and his raging thoughts. The man's breath was coming fast and furiously and Chris noted the way he held his ribs in pain. He had shied from his touch and rounded on him in an instant, the fight not yet dead in his eyes. He'd had no choice but to step in, the man on the ground would likely be dead now if he hadn't. He noticed several tattoo's on the man's skin, but one in particular stood out now beneath his still raised arm, the dark ink tracing a path down the inside of his arm from the dark curve of his armpit to the inside of his elbow, a damn painful place to have one if ever he could think of one.

Vin blinked again and focused on the blonde man's face, feeling blood trickling from the cut above his eye as he regained control of his turbulent thoughts. He panted with exertion, his hand held to his side where his ribs were flaming in pain and looked down at the man on the ground, the man that he had been about to beat to death, perhaps would have, if the cop hadn't stopped him. What did that make him? Was he any better than the man now bleeding at his feet? With a grimace of pain more than physical, he lowered his arm and turned his back on the damage he had done, causing his knee to twist in pain as he leant out for the wall to support himself – and missed the sight of the downed biker pulling his second gun.


	5. The Dark Rain

**Part 5. The Dark Rain**

As Decker's hand closed around the handle of his 9mm Beretta, Chris Larabee's eyes narrowed in disgust. He could see what was about to go down and it would be in violation of one of the most important codes of nature, as far as he was concerned. _You just didn't shoot a man in the back._

But he wasn't alone in watching Tanner's back. As the wounded Texan stumbled and put a hand to the wall to brace himself Keg, too, saw Decker reach for his concealed weapon and watched him raise it up towards Vin's back – and he wasn't about to let his old friend be shot like that, whether it meant shooting a fellow brother dead or not, a man just didn't do that.

In an instant, Larabee's own gun was drawn. He wasn't close enough to reach Decker physically to put a stop to his attack, so if he wanted to save the Texan's life his gun was the only way. Why he felt such an instant bond of brotherhood with a man he had met only minutes before, from the moment he had seen him in the club in fact, he would never know. Some things, he had come to realise in life, simply had no obvious reason. The trick was whether to accept them, or question them until you questioned their very place in your life... And so he pulled his Colt and in that moment, consciously put one strangers life above another. His trigger squeezed with the serious intent that he put behind every shot he fired, just as Decker squeezed his own trigger, aiming square at Vin's back.

At the very moment that the silver muzzle of Chris's gun flashed in the light, Keg launched to action and his move was far swifter than Buck would ever have anticipated. The biker slammed into him with his full weight and dealt him a ferocious blow to the jaw that sent him staggering to the ground in a daze. His own ATF issued weapon was then in the biker's hand and firing towards Decker in a heartbeat.

But there wasn't much that escaped Nathan Jackson and he wasn't about to let the newly armed biker kill Chris without trying to stop him, for that is who he assumed the biker was aiming for. The black handle of his knife was in his hand in a flash and he felt it's smooth release from his fingers before watching it gleam through the air towards Keg's exposed neck.

Keg's arm was still feeling the reverberation of the shot he'd fired, satisfied to see Decker jolt back under the impact of his bullet when he saw Vin turn from the wall to face him in surprise. It was the shocked expression on Vin's face that told him that something was terribly wrong even before he registered the stabbing pain of Nathan's knife brutally embedded in his throat. He wanted to smile at his friend, to show him that he had him covered, but couldn't get his mouth to work. His eyes wandered to Nathan's and took in the fact that the man no longer held a knife in his hand, that his stance looked like he'd just thrown it, before returning to Vin's pained expression. He managed to lift a hand to indeed feel the length of the cold handle sticking from his neck.

Vin pushed himself from the wall to step towards Keg, knowing there was nothing he could do for him but not

wanting him to die alone, but was stopped by a shouted command.

"Don't move another step!" Buck had reclaimed his discharged weapon and aimed it straight towards the last biker still posing a threat.

The Texan stopped, his eyes frustrated as he watched the pain fade from Keg's face. The mortally wounded

man let his arm fall away from the knife at his throat before pitching forward to the ground with a final grunt.

"Put your hands where I can see them!"

Vin moved his hands away from his sides but no higher just as Keg rolled to his side and lay still. He didn't need to go to him to know he was dead and he felt his jaw grind together in loss and frustration. His anger was swift and his eyes sought retribution as they lowered to the sight of Decker, now writhing in pain on the ground and not far behind Keg by the looks of it. He knew what Keg had done for him - he and the blonde agent now kicking a gun from Decker's convulsing fingers. They had both fired on Decker and stopped the son of a bitch from shooting him in the back. Even as he had that thought, he heard the leader's calmly admonishing words spoken to the pain-wracked Decker.

"You don't shoot a man in the back."

Vin's turbulent blue eyes took in first Flea, then the too still Keg, before he looked down to Decker once more. _How the hell had it come to this?_

Buck stepped closer to the remaining biker, determined to make sure there was no more trouble, his hands already getting his handcuffs ready from the inner pocket of his jacket. He was surprised that Chris did not seem concerned by his presence and that he had not already secured him.

"You hit?" Nathan called to Chris in concern. He knew he'd acted as fast as he could when Buck had gone down, but he also knew the red haired biker had managed to get a shot off and he wasn't yet sure where the bullet had gone.

Chris's head lifted at Nathan's words and he shook his head as he turned to see Buck approaching the remaining biker with his weapon drawn and ready. He noted the swelling, red skin at Buck's jaw and looked down to see the knife sticking from Keg's throat, piecing it all together before looking again to Vin as he answered Nathan. "No."

"The son of a bitch grabbed my gun," Buck informed him.

"He was about to shoot you," Nathan confirmed, moving toward Keg and knowing he wouldn't find him alive.

Chris glanced at Ezra, making sure his men were all accounted for, before turning to finally give his attention to the drenched Texan standing beside him. He read shock in the now pale face and heard his quiet, drawled voice.

"No, he wasn't."

The ATF Captain frowned and gazed at Keg, before turning back to the body at his own feet, not understanding.

Vin saw the look on Chris's face and elaborated. "He wasn't aimin' at you... he was aimin' at him," he nodded toward Decker. Still seeing Chris's frown he continued, "he was protectin' me."

Chris turned back once more to look at the dead red-haired biker and back again to Decker, realising what the Texan was saying. Nathan was wrong, the biker he'd killed with his knife had been aiming to protect his friend. So even amongst the pack there were alliances...

"He's dead," Nathan called out unnecessarily, kneeling over Keg as he checked for a pulse, catching Vin's eye for a moment as the younger man looked over.

Vin looked over at Keg for a long moment before turning back toward Decker, watching the man's hands shake uncontrollably with pain and severed nerves as he stepped closer. He registered the two bullet holes in his chest, both close to his heart. Those bullets had saved his life, of that he had no doubt. Decker had been about to shoot him in the back - and he'd failed because he'd drawn the fire of two very different men. One that represented the side of law and one that represented the worst element the city had to offer, but both none the less following the same unspoken code.

For Decker's part, he could do no more than stare at the watery sky in wordless outrage. One moment he'd had the Texan in his sights and in the next he'd been unable to do more than writhe in pain as he lay dying. He was riding fast on the heels of Flea who was only minutes ahead of him and yet he could still make out Turner stepping toward him in his fading vision.

Vin ignored Buck's demands that he submit to custody and moved closer to Decker, bending his good leg to the ground. What Decker knew was too important to ignore and something told him that the agent standing close beside him was not about to let him be fired upon. He kept his left leg straight as he painfully lowered himself until he could hear Decker's soft gasps over the light pattering of rain. Slowly and deliberately he leant forward to stare into his raging, glazed eyes. The large man was taking shallow, sharp breaths, any one now could be his last. He managed to meet Vin's eyes and shot back pure hatred, knowing that death was only seconds away from claiming him. It took him several attempts to gasp out his dying words, blood bubbling on his already greying lips and his words expelled on short gasps of air.

"M – mo – ther - 'king – dead - m-man…"

Tanner's eyes were chillingly cold as he stared back, not offering any measure of comfort by way of word or

expression. He heard the agents talking around him and voiced a single question softly to the rapidly expiring man, not wanting anyone else to hear it but needing to know.

"Who wanted me dead back in Texas?"

Through the gasping sounds came a mocking laugh. "F-fuck – you."

He wasn't going to get his answer. After a moment a half smile tilted Vin's mouth, his eyes not finding the humour of his lips. Decker was never going to tell him, he'd take the knowledge to his worm-filled grave. The agent's voice was raw and soft as he made a promise, his eyes showing the utter conviction of his words.

"I'll find a way to make sure everyone ya ever met thinks ya betrayed the club tonight an' turned us in ta the cops. Everyone'll know yer a traitor..."

Decker's eyes widened slightly. He had nothing to fear, he was dying anyway, but to know that his name could be blackened forever and there was nothing he could do about it was more than he could stand. It was the ultimate revenge. He managed to raise his head, fighting desperately against the death that pulled at him. He didn't want to die, could not believe he actually was. Blood spat from his mouth as his fingers miraculously found Vin's arm, but his grip was useless. Undecipherable sounds came from his lips and he tried twice more before Vin was able to understand what he was being told.

"They'll kill you anyway."

Decker tried to speak again, perhaps to taunt him once more, more likely to condemn him to hell, but no sound came to his fading lips. On a final grunt, he fell back and his sightless eyes sent a futile protest to the stars.

In the brief moment of silence that so often accompanies death, Vin didn't move an inch. Finally, it was a red drop that fell onto his hand that caught his eye, causing him to blink and look down. Another quickly followed and was chased away by the growing rain that now collided with his skin in a steady patter. Blood. His blood; falling from his face and dripping useless to the ground. He closed his eyes against the sight, against the terrible memories that rode on frantic wings to plague him once more and tilted his head to the night sky, to the very source of the rain that seemed to dog his every step. It continued to drip from his face and hair, sending rivulets of red to trickle down his cold skin. For a moment he managed to block his mind, concentrating on the feel of the weighted drops touching him, before his memories won out, as they always did.

He'd never stopped to analyse it, but he associated rain with violence, had done since he was five years old, and yet in some way, he was strangely comforted by it. It was something tangible, something he knew and understood. He knew what atrocities it could mask and he was no longer surprised by what it revealed to him. In a lifetime of being alone, he had come to rely on no one but himself. Even as a marine, he had quickly discovered he worked better alone, for he trusted no one. And yet the rain had never left him, not for long. Not even a hot shower on a cold night could warm his soul for long before the rain was there, pelting down from above, bringing memories and moments freshly renewed in his mind. It was neither his enemy, nor his friend, but it was something constant in his life, marking nights of such utter darkness that no water could ever wash from his skin.

And tonight was no different. His mind showed him in detail the blood that now ran beneath the bodies of the dead men surrounding him, trickling through cracks in the rough concrete to gather in the puddles of depressed ground. Still, he knew, it was better to see their blood, than his mothers. It was justice, he told himself. He was two men closer to justice… yet he took no satisfaction in their deaths, nor any comfort in that reasoning.

Buck, Ezra and Nathan were all watching the last remaining, wounded biker kneeling on the ground. His silence seemed somehow reverent and as it continued over long seconds, they looked to Chris for instruction.

Chris too was studying Vin's silent profile, not alone in wondering what thoughts were causing such pain to mar the younger man's face as it tilted back toward the light, his shirtless chest exposed to the rain and showing patterns of blood running down to the waist of his low black jeans. It wasn't obvious, to any of the others, but from where he stood he clearly recognised the torment that he saw there, hardening his unshaven jaw and causing his eyes to close too tight. It was as if his face lifted to the night in search of guidance and for a moment he had the unbidden thought that only a wolf could pose as solitary a figure in the moonlight.

"Call it in," he said slowly over his shoulder to his men, his voice remaining low as if he didn't want to scare a wild creature away. He silently bent and retrieved Vin's disregarded jacket and stepped forward to place it on his shoulders. It was wet, but would at least offer some respite from the chilling breeze that had now come in. He'd noticed the younger man shivering slightly, although he seemed oblivious to it himself.

As the weight of the leather settled on his shoulders Vin snapped from his reverie and looked up, pausing a moment before slowly putting his arms through the lining as he studied Chris's face. Neither was prepared for the shock of the bullet, which cracked through the air and sent Chris staggering forward into Vin, the ATF leader's eyes wide in shock as he fell and lost his grip on his gun.

"Everyone drop your guns and back off!"

"Good Lord, what now..." Ezra uttered to himself, dropping his phone back to his side and turning to the new voice.

All eyes swung to the shadows once more. It took a moment to find the white shirt of the young guard in the dim light, aiming wildly at all of them in turn.

Vin's eyes narrowed at the sight of the eager young associate member that had called him "Hangman" when he'd entered the club with Keg such a short while ago. He'd forgotten about him and his friend in everything that had happened. The young fool would get himself killed, all to try and create a name for himself with the club. He wondered again how the situation had gotten so out of hand.

He spotted the weapon that the cop had kicked away from Decker and subtly drew it closer before gripping it in his cold hand. A questioning glance at the injured cop told him he was alright - and that he knew he had the gun. There was only one reason that he wouldn't ask for it back, somehow he _knew_, but how, was the question. He couldn't worry about it at that second though.

"Just a graze," Chris answered his silent question with little patience, already determining the bullet had torn through his arm and moved on. He held one hand over the wound and struggled to get back up, grabbing his gun as he did.

He'd purposely directed his look to the gun he'd seen the Texan grab from the ground and saw the slight narrowing of the man's eyes in response. They each understood the other's position now.

"I said everyone drop your guns _now_!" the kid shouted, panicking more with every second that his commands were ignored.

Vin shifted his eyes from the young guard over to Keg and had a moment's relief that whatever else had happened, at least Keg hadn't lived to see what he was about to do. In Keg's mind, he would be the lowest rat that could skulk through the dirty world they lived in.

"Now look son, any second now this place is going to be flooded with cops -"

"Actually, it already kind of is..." Nathan interrupted logically.

Buck shook Nathan a look that clearly asked if he was nuts before going on. "And you don't wanna make this any worse than it is, ok?" Buck reasoned, not dropping his weapon even a fraction from the skittish young man.

"You fire that thing and we'll be forced to take you down. Don't make us shoot you," Nathan warned this time.

The kid's hand shook, alternating his aim between the remaining men as he looked to Vin. "Just let him go!" He ordered, gesturing impatiently. "Come on! Let's get out of here."

"He's not going anywhere, and neither are you," Chris said calmly. "You can't kill all of us, son." His aim remained true despite his wound.

The four ATF agents were watching the young guard as the sound of a distant siren served to escalate his growing panic. He aimed again at Buck.

"Put it down, kid." Vin said in as low a voice as possible. "We'll walk out of this one, the club'll make sure of it."

The kid just looked at him in shock. "I'm not letting these pricks take me in! I'm putting my ass on the line for you here. Let's just get the fuck out of here!"

"Just let this one go. We'll be looked after," he assured him again.

"I'm not going to jail."

"You won't have to. Just put your gun down an' let this be over with."

But the young guard didn't understand how a Joker - a man he respected and revered and aspired to be a brother to, could just give in so meekly. His head shook as he tried to understand Vin's actions. "I can get us out of this," he said again, saying his words slowly in order to make Vin understand. He was, after all, bleeding from the head...

Vin could see the kid wavering despite the gun he still held aimed at Buck. He thought he could persuade him to give in, but as he went to speak again Buck cut in.

"This ain't the time to be a hero kid. Just drop the weapon before you get yourself in more trouble." Buck didn't fear a bullet from the kid's gun, not while Larabee was covering his back. Still, he didn't really want to take a chance with the gun so close to his head and he didn't really want to see the kid have to go down for his stupidity.

Vin watched the anger surface on the young man's face and cursed the moustached cop for his stupidity just as a high-pitch laugh reached them from the lower car park.

"Listen to your friend, son, you fire that gun it'll get a whole lot worse. You put it down now, you'll walk out of this - both of you."

Vin looked sideways at Chris, his respect for the man rising. He'd read the anger that Buck's words had caused just as he had, but then another squealing laugh, closer this time, was the guard's undoing. He straightened his aim at Buck just as the first woman came up the ramp and walked right into their stand-off. Before the woman had time to make a noise, she was held tight in the guards grip and a gun was pointed at her head. He shouted to Vin as he took a step backward, dragging the woman, "Ta hell with that - come on let's go!"

The woman's friends were right behind her, but the young man screamed at them. "Get the fuck out of here – NOW! GO!"

He had his much needed ticket out of there, he didn't need anyone else complicating things.

Buck watched the women hesitate and added his own command. " _Go!_"

But he'd underestimated the women. There was no way they were leaving their friend in the hands of a madman.

"Let her go you son of a bitch!" one shouted at the young guard.

Buck would have rolled his eyes in frustration if the situation weren't so serious.

"We're police officer's ma'am, just move back now and let us take care of your friend. You're making the situation much worse than it already is."

The other woman turned to him. "Sure you are!" She turned back to the guard, taking a step toward him and her struggling friend. "Let her go!"

The guard was panicking. The cops weren't taking him seriously, the women weren't taking him seriously, and his own 'brother' didn't believe he had the guts to pull this off. To hell with them all...

Chris had the best shot at the guard, but his aim was continually hampered by the woman held in the tight grip of the kid's arm. He knew he couldn't aim to hurt him - he had to take him down with a single shot, before he got out a shot of his own and killed the woman.

"Drop the gun!" Buck yelled again and the kid's finger twitched in response. It was a risk, yelling at him could either throw him off balance enough that he would make a mistake - or it could backfire, which it did. The kid's finger began to squeeze his trigger.

The sound of a gun exploding collided with the sound of the women screaming as they watched blood spray from the young guard's head, showering their friend who was released from the now limp arm to stagger to her knee's in shock. They rushed forward to help her as Buck, Nathan and Ezra all looked to Chris, shocked to see him turn toward the biker.

Vin gave the briefest of nods, acknowledging the thanks in Chris's eyes before Buck, seeing the gun in Vin's hand, almost exploded himself.

"Drop it! Now! Put the weapon down, put your hands up where we can see them and step forward into the light!"

Vin shifted his gaze to the agent commanding him and could not help the edge of a smile that curved his lip as he stepped forward.

"Drop the gun!" Buck shouted again.

Vin watched the weapon the agent had trained on him and ignored him directly, instead taking another step forward and deftly spinning the gun in his hand to present it to Chris handle first.

Reaching out silently to take the gun, Chris already knew that the man would not have used it on him, but Buck was doing his job, for his team still had no idea who this man was and there were witnesses standing around.

"Now raise your arms where we can see them!" Buck snapped again in response to the grin he'd seen on the

younger man's face.

"Buck," Chris said in warning, "I've got this, you see to the ladies. Move them down out of this rain for a start."

Buck narrowed his gaze at Chris, but did as asked, giving one final look at Vin before turning to the excited women, his badge clearly displayed for their view. "Hello ladies, no cause for alarm here, just your friendly ATF Department at work..."

Once more, silence descended as Buck led the women to shelter and Vin took in what he had just said. So these men were ATF...

For a second the remaining men didn't move, all waiting to ensure that the deadly gunplay was indeed over. Then Nathan was the first to stir to action, getting up and moving to check the young guard first, shaking his head as he realised what he was seeing. He looked up at Chris, then at Vin. "That was a hell of a shot," he said warily, still not sure who the hell the man was or why he would attack his own men. He was, however, beginning to realise that all was not as it seemed, although while he stood there dressed in the club's colours, he wasn't about to take any chances.

"You alright?" He asked Chris as he moved back to Ezra, keeping a wary eye on Vin.

Chris glanced again at the young guard who had just brought the death tally up to four. He was amazed at the skill and speed of the man that had taken him down. He turned to him then with a look of both awe and slight cunning.

If he had not wanted the Texan on his team before, he did now – and when he put his mind to it, Chris Larabee was an unstoppable force.

"Chris, you alright?" Nathan called again, reaching Ezra and aware that Chris had not answered him.

Ezra was sitting still, his hand clutched around his arm. He had been hurt worse, but had lost enough blood to render him weakened.

Chris looked over to Nathan and gave a slight smile. "Fine, Nathan." He looked down at the sleeve of his torn jacket, the blood already drying around the wound. "Just a graze."

"Everyone's 'just a graze'," Nathan muttered, giving Ezra his full attention.

"I beg to differ, there are some of us, I fear, with mortal wounds..."

"Don't you start," Nathan said, ripping Ezra's sleeve with little ceremony, "Where the hell were you when they

dragged my ass out here for a lynching?!"

"Right behind you, I assure you."

"'Right behind' my ass!"

"Precisely."

Nathan scowled as he computed the quick response but Ezra saw the glint of humour in his fellow agent's eye.

"Nathan?" Chris asked.

Nathan looked up, directing Ezra to keep hold of his arm. "It's not bad, he needs to get to a hospital though."

"All right, call it in," Chris said for the second time that night. "Get an ambulance down here."

Vin was using the distraction to move closer to Keg. He had to take a final look for himself to make sure there was no chance he was alive, but when he heard Chris say to call for an ambulance he turned back. He was surprised to see a calculating light in the older man's eyes when he faced him.

Chris noticed the way the younger man held his side, staggering slightly as he shifted his weight from his wounded knee. He was pressing the heel of his hand to the cut over his eye, trying to stop the bleeding that was hindering his vision.

Vin turned and watched Nathan begin to dial his phone. "Wait," he called out, his voice raw and low, to which Nathan stopped and looked up.

Vin felt Chris studying him and shifted his eyes back to meet the questioning look. He could feel his side flaming with fire, and the beginning of slight tremors start to chase through his freezing body. He was chilled to the bone. He shook his head slightly, taking his hand away from his eye and studying the blood on his hand as if it could tell him the answers to all his problems. How did he begin to explain?

Chris didn't take his eyes from Vin as he held up his own hand to Nathan, signalling him to wait a moment. In

pain and in no mood for games, Ezra groaned in frustration and bowed his head.

"Who _are_ you?" Nathan finally asked, finishing what he could do for Ezra and standing to join them.

Chris finally smiled, and for a moment Vin thought the transforming look had an almost cat-like quality to it. As far as Chris could see, there was no point in keeping it a secret any longer, there was no one left alive to tell of what had gone on that night. Still, he spoke only loud enough for his men to hear.

"Nathan Jackson, meet Special Operations Agent Vin Tanner of the NTF, on loan from Texas for three months and potential sharpshooter for out Team. Vin Tanner, meet Nathan Jackson, ATF," he said.

Amongst the shocked faces, Chris smiled at Vin. "I've got a job proposition for you when you're up to it. You'll only have to change one letter in your title."

Vin's face showed nothing, his hand again pressed to his eye, although he had registered the remark about the job offer as he returned Chris's steady gaze. He found he was not particularly surprised that the ATF agent knew exactly who he was, although perhaps he should have been.

"I'm not even meant ta be here yet," he said, his raspy voice showing no surprise. It was a question, how had he known? He stood as straight as he could through the pain in his side, continuing to favour his knee.

"I had a fair idea when you were talking with your friend before," Chris nodded down at Decker. "You confirmed it a moment ago. I heard there was a sharpshooter coming to town… figure I just saw him in action."

Nathan shook his head but the implications finally hit him and he grinned. Chris's instincts had been right, this man was on their side. "I'll be damned," he said, looking at Vin with reassessing eyes. "You're a hell of a shot," he told him again.

Vin showed no reaction to the praise, eyeing the hand that Chris extended out to him.

"Chris Larabee, ATF." The Captain nodded to the rest of the team. "And this is part of my team. Nathan Jackson you've just met and over there's Ezra Standish. Buck Wilmington's seeing to the women."

"An understatement I'm sure."

Ignoring Ezra, Chris paused a moment in thought, waiting for his gesture of greeting to be returned. "I've been looking for a final man to make it seven." His eyes told Vin he thought he was it and that the search was now over.

Vin looked down to Chris's outstretched hand, then to his own before Chris too, looked down and finally noticed the blood that coated Vin's fingers. There was too much there to have come from the cut above his eye alone. He frowned a moment before looking up sharply and seeing the pain for what it was. "You're hit?" he asked him, pushing his resisting hand away quickly and pulling his jacket aside to expose the firm flesh beneath before Vin could back away.

Nathan and Chris both saw the tear of a bullet that had grazed through the hard wall of Vin's side. It was bleeding freely and seemed all the more garish for the deep bruising surrounding it.

"Nathan," Chris called unnecessarily as he tried to steer Vin to the wall.

Vin turned his head to Nathan as he allowed himself to be led back to the wall, then once more looked back at the man he had met only a short while before, studying his calm green eyes. He didn't know what to make of the offer to join his team, was not sure if the man was even serious, but he somehow knew that this was only the beginning. Their paths were connected, somehow. And if the man's look had been anything to go by, his mind was already set on the matter.

"Perhaps now is a prudent time to call for an ambulance?" Ezra suggested in a dry voice.

Chris raised an eyebrow, daring Vin to defy Ezra's request for an ambulance once more, concerned at the fresh sheen of moisture that was beginning to bead on the younger man's skin.

"Go ahead an' call for your agent, but I can't go ta the hospital," Vin told him straight.

"Here, lemme look at that now," Nathan said, trying to move the arm Vin held to his side.

"Like hell you can't," Chris told him straight, looking again at the blood coating the pale skin of his stomach in the light as Nathan held the jacket back so he could get to the wound. He could also now read the outline of ink that traced the ribs above the blood marring the skin. The scrolling letters were not fresh, but they were clearly written; Semper Fi.

Nathan took in the words and the small glimpse they gave into the man's background as he probed around the bloodied area. It wasn't long before Vin flinched and pulled away, reaching haphazardly to the wall once more for support, his stomach tight with his pain and a low growl torn from his throat. His eyes bore into Chris's with the need to make him understand his position, the cut above his eye now forgotten and trickling blood openly down his face.

"I need ta get back an' explain all this," he waved an arm around the fallen men littering the ground. "I can't get caught in the clean-up here, otherwise there'll be the club's lawyers involved an' one hell of a mess ta work out. It's better if I jist disappear, fer everyone involved."

Chris looked at him levelly. "You aren't even supposed to be here, you said it yourself. You're not under anyone's authorisation to do what you're doing."

Vin said nothing, just returned Chris's level look until the older man shook his head slightly. "Why haven't you

reported in?"

Vin looked Chris in the eye. "I've spent years gettin' to the point I am now with this gang. If I hadn't checked in with 'em when I got here, they'd have asked why an' I would've blown all chances of goin' in with 'em again." Seeing Chris's still slightly raised brow he continued. "I tried to explain the need to do that to my Captain, but he didn't wannna hear it... I jist wanted to touch base with the club 'fore I got caught up in the new position. I didn't dream that anythin' like this would happen."

Chris studied his face, watching for the truth. "Were you even going to accept the transfer? Maybe you hadn't

intended to report back to work at all..."

"That ain't it." Vin said, denying it with a slight shake of his head, although his voice remained as calm as it had been since he'd first spoken.

"Or maybe you're playing for the wrong team."

The three men turned as Buck came back up the ramp to join them. He'd heard enough to hear Chris introduce Vin by his NTF title.

Vin got angry as he looked Buck in the eye, his look clearly showing that he was unimpressed with what he saw, but Buck was just as stubborn.

"I've told ya the truth, I've got nothin'a hide. I haven't reported in yet 'cause I'm not due fer another few days. I've been on this case too damn long jist ta blow it off 'caus've a bullshit transfer. I wasn't about to let all m'hard work go ta hell 'cause my captain didn't have the balls to see this through."

"And you do?" Chris pushed, making use of Vin's anger to get his answers.

Vin's eyes narrowed at Chris, correctly determining the man was goading him, although he said nothing. He didn't have to, his eyes said it all.

They stared at each other a moment before Vin waved an arm at Decker, Flea, Keg and the guard in an all encompassing gesture. "Do you know what it'll take to bring these bastards down? Do you have any idea what's involved? You can't do it from the outside. You can't understand the world they live in 'less ya live it fer yerself, day in, day out. It ain't somethin' you can go in half-assed an' do, it's a full time job." He paused for a moment and Chris thought he heard the weary man sigh. "These guys are fuckin' animals, an' I've been livin' with 'em fer near on a year straight. I'm prepared ta do that, if it means I'll take 'em down in the end. You wanna get these pricks, ya gotta be prepared to accept that."

Nobody noticed the expression on Ezra's face as he listened in the background. The long-haired man had meant every word, he could hear the passion in his voice. This was more than a job for the Texan, this was personal. He knew then, that the two of them had much in common; a shared interest, or hatred, to pursue.

Nathan's quiet voice filled the paused silence that followed Vin's outburst. "He saved that woman's life, Buck."

Nathan looked at Vin, "and he saved mine, too."

Vin returned Nathan's look of gratitude, glad for the support but saying nothing more after his temper had caused him to lash out at Buck. The blonde ATF agent had pushed just the right buttons to set him off, not something easily done.

Buck looked away from Nathan's assessing eyes but said nothing as Chris looked again to Vin. He'd thought it through and he needed to speak to Benning. He'd get in touch with him and ask him to get Travis and Murphy together before he made any rash decisions concerning the Texan. Truth was, this man was their best shot at infiltrating the club. To get where he was now took years - years they could not afford to do over. He sighed and turned to Nathan. His only concern now was making sure the man was not going to drop dead before them.

"How does it look, Nathan?"

Nathan frowned. "Bullet's grazed through, but it went deep. He needs to get to a doctor." He looked around in

exasperation. "Hell you _all_ need to get to a doctor!" He scanned the rest of Vin's frame. "And by the looks of you, you've got some other injuries need lookin' at too... someone's worked you over good not too long ago."

Vin was uncomfortable with the tone of concern in Nathan's words.

"Then you go to the hospital," Chris told Vin.

Vin stood straighter, enough was enough. "Trust me, those bastards got some'a the best doctor's there is. Just let me get outta here 'fore ya call it in, I'll be fine." He looked down at his side and took his hand away, trying to reinforce his words. "It's a lotta blood, but the wound ain't bad. I'll get it cleaned up an' it'll be good as new."

"If you don't bleed to death first," Nathan argued, not liking Vin's plan.

Chris looked a moment longer at Vin, realising the man was speaking just as he saw it - through hard experience.

He then turned to Nathan, wanting to know if that would be enough.

Nathan sighed. "He'll be alright, _if_ he gets to a doctor, _now_. I don't like him riding himself there though, he's lost more blood than he thinks," he shook his head at the stubborn Texan.

"While I hate to appear churlish, might I remind you gentlemen of the progressin' pool of my _own_ life's blood that I'm currently residin' in?"

Chris glanced at Ezra, noting the blood surrounding his agent on the ground and realising he had a point.

"Make the call." He looked back at Vin, demanding the truth.

Vin nodded. "It's not far from here, I'll be there in five minutes."

The NTF agent looked around at the bodies on the ground once more. He needed to make sure they understood the repercussions that could result from the night. "This is serious. Three members an' an associate dead in one night is borderin' on war." He looked Chris in the eye, making sure he understood. "You don't want that on yer turf, trust me." When Chris didn't reply he continued. "I'll go an' make sure this doesn't get out of hand. I'll tell 'em it was just a routine surveillance gone wrong when Flea an' Decker there showed up an' made a situation out of nothin'. I'll say it wasn't the cops' fault, 'fore they come out with guns blazin' an' shoot this city ta hell." His eyes showed the importance of his words. "These boys were from Texas, but it won't make no difference. All I can do is try an' prevent it from becomin' a bloodbath."

"The man has a point," Nathan put in, "and if we take him in, he'll have a lot more to explain to the Joker's than how he got away. They'll assign him a lawyer and once they get involved, this'll become a circus." As much as he didn't want to let the injured man ride away, he knew that if he didn't return to them, the situation would escalate even further.

Chris was still studying Vin's profile. Like Nathan, he didn't want to let an injured man walk away, but he understood what had to be done. His presence and help tonight might just make the difference in stopping any retaliatory action from the gang.

Taking his silence for acquiescence Vin turned to leave, stifling a groan as he turned, sensing that if he showed just how much pain he was really in, there was no chance in hell that the ATF Captain would let him go.

"Wait."

Chris shook his head slightly, knowing that the only way to deal with the man was on his terms, for now. He wanted some answers, but knew he was going to have to wait and so he gave no voice to his questions. Something told him to trust Vin, had been telling him to since the second they had met. He had to believe his instincts were correct, he relied on them every day of his life to keep both he and his men alive.

Instead, he dug into his pocket and found a pen, pulling out a small notebook and quickly writing his number down, holding it out to Vin. "You've left me one hell of a mess here Tanner. You call me later tonight, I don't hear from you by morning I'll haul your ass in off the street myself - and I mean that," he ordered. "I want to know everything you know about what's going on here and everything you can tell us about the operations of the club."

Vin hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking the paper, studying the number for a second before putting it in his pocket. His eyes held Chris's for another moment before he nodded once and turned, heading for his bike.

"And Vin…"

Again Vin turned at the sound of Chris's voice, waiting as he looked at the intense eyes once more. "Watch your back."

Vin flashed a slight grin in the light before he turned, "You too, Cowboy."

He missed the flash of the slight grin that crossed Larabee's face before it was replaced with a thoughtful

expression. He'd be waiting for that call, and God help the man if he failed to meet his end of the bargain.

As the Texan walked away their eyes followed his back in silence until Chris spoke without turning to Buck.

"Follow him. Make sure he gets where he's going."


	6. Destiny Is Mine

**Part 6. Destiny Is Mine**

_We chase misprinted lies_

_We face the path of time_

_And yet I fight, And yet I fight_

_This battle all alone_

_No one to cry to_

_No place to call home_

_**(from Alice in Chains, Nutshell)**_

He felt like he'd been riding forever, his mind as numb as the coldness of his skin. Still, as he rode on through the still falling rain, not for a moment did Vin Tanner consider stopping. With one hand holding a steady turn on the throttle and his other pressed close to his side, trying to ease the burning pain that pierced through his skin, he kept his head tilted down, trying to avoid being blinded by the rain that hit his face like stinging insects, cleansing his wounds even as it chilled him to the bone.

The roads were slick with water and oil and so he tried to steer a steady course back to Purgatorio, not bothering to indicate, for there was little traffic around and he didn't want to move his hand unless he was forced to use his clutch to change gears. Red lights, parked cars, buildings, they all went by with no acknowledgement on his part.

He began to drift, his mind slipping around thoughts he knew he needed to hold on to. He needed to think about what he was going to say, yet all he could seem to grasp were the shivers that were running through the core of his spine like a blade of ice seeking to break him from within. And so he escaped to another time, back when his world seemed no larger than he and his mother. There had never been a time of carefree happiness in his world, he'd been robbed of that by the son of a bitch who had never been a father to him, but there had been moments of peace; too few moments of relative quiet that he would always hold near to him.

When he thought of his mother, he thought of her beautiful face framed in sunlight. He remembered her smile, the smile that had never seemed to chase away the sadness or wistfulness from her eyes. Not even he could do that for her, but she had loved him, that he had always felt. She had comforted him and tried all she could to shelter him from the life she had fallen into, although he had not understood that then. He wondered, if she had not died, what would he have learned of her? He never had known her story, how she had come to the pass she had, with the man she had. What he did know, was that she had hated his father, with everything she had, and had wanted a better life for them both… and that was enough for him.

Hearing a horn beep he blinked and swerved at the same time, avoiding the oncoming car he had drifted over to meet. The traffic was sparse, for it seemed no-one wanted to be a part of this God-awful night… No-one, that was, except for him. And very much a part of it he was, living it, feeling its frigid embrace with every part of his body until it took root in his very soul. He could not escape the path he was on, no matter how his mind wished it. His was a journey that could only end when justice was served from his hand; when the brutal murder of his mother was avenged - and when retribution was had for the countless lives his father had taken and destroyed, his own but one on a long and growing list.

Only a solitary car, some distance behind, joined him on his black road toward the darker side of the city. The driver of that car had heaved a large sigh as he had seen the bike swerve at the last moment to miss a head on collision with the oncoming car. Buck Wilmington wondered at that moment why the hell helmet laws weren't enforced, for he could only imagine the mess the Texan would have been in if he had hit that car, not to mention how pissed off Chris would be at him for having let it happen...

He had to admit, he had no reason to dislike the NTF agent, now that he knew who he was. His initial dislike had come from believing he was a Joker, so now that he knew he was on the right side of the law, he really had no excuse... and yet there was something about him that went against his grain. Vin Tanner just seemed like a man who's ambition would be stopped by nothing, and perhaps he didn't want to see Chris hurt by placing himself in the path of that.

At that moment, Vin's own thoughts had turned back to Larabee, and once more he had the feeling that he'd met him before, like he was not a stranger to him. He knew then, without knowing why, that he was a man he could trust. Something told him their paths would soon cross again. Right now though, he was on his own and if he didn't get to shelter soon he was going to slide right off his seat and take his place on the slick, wet road. He knew if that happened no-one would stop and help him, an outlaw, and by all outward appearances that is what he was.

He turned down a darkened side street and for the first time became suspicious of the car still behind him, watching in his left side mirror a long moment later as it turned to follow him.

..

Chris had listened to the bike roar away for a long while, its rumbling engine riding above the other noises of the city. He'd looked down then, water dripping from his chin and the too-long length of his fringe as he noticed a rumpled piece of material on the sodden ground where it rested in a puddle at his feet. Frowning slightly, he bent to pick it up and slowly stood, contemplating the item a moment, realising then that it was Tanner's t-shirt, left where he had discarded it in his fight. He felt a slight chill run the length of his spine, up to the skin of his cold, wet neck where it was exposed over the collar of his jacket. His bleeding arm was forgotten for the moment as he stood lost in thought.

"They're on their way," he'd vaguely heard Nathan say, but his mind was lost in the image of the NTF agent that had ridden off wounded into the night. He merely nodded, unable to shake a sense of foreboding, as he looked at the material clutched in his hand as if it could tell him the future.

Nathan hardened his glance up at Chris as he crouched again by Ezra's side and put his phone back in his pocket, seeing the concentration on his leader's face. There was a pause in the rain, for which he was grateful, although he knew it would not last. There was hardly a star to be seen in the dismal sky and more heavy cloud would no doubt soon move over to unload its burden on them.

"How did you know who he was?" he asked.

Blinking as he looked at Nathan, Chris shook off his dark feeling. "It's what Benning and Travis came to see me about. They knew he was transferring over and think he's the one for our team. No-one is supposed to know yet."

"And what do you think, now that you've seen him?"

Chris's face turned thoughtful. "I think he's the man we've been looking for."

Nathan's eyebrow rose a little. "He can sure as hell shoot…" he conceded, remembering again the deadly accuracy of Vin Tanner's aim.

Chris finally looked at Nathan, his eyebrow raising. "But..."

"...but he don't exactly seem like a team player."

"He warned us that they were here for you. That's how we knew to come out here."

Nathan was surprised. "How did he know who you were? He seemed surprised when you introduced the team."

Chris's lip curled at that as he gave his head a slight shake. He had no idea. His eyes left Nathan's but the dark man had already seen the set look on his Captain's face; Larabee had already made the decision to recruit Tanner.

..

Vin finally saw the neon sign of the Shaking Hand up ahead and mustered the remainder of his will to complete his journey. It was just a matter of getting off his bike, walking inside, finding the doc that he hoped would be there as he had most other nights that week and getting himself seen to… A daunting near future when listed in his mind and so he concentrated on one task at a time. Park. Turn bike off. Put down stand. Take out keys. Get up. Easier said than done.

He hesitated a moment and it was a setback, for he lost his momentum and simply sat in the rain a moment, cold keys clutched in his hand as he sought strength, his form illuminated in the constantly alternating blue

and red light shining down from the neon sign, which flashed lazily above the doorway.

Bounce eyed him from his dark alcove, seeing his freshly beat up face in the light and openly curious as to what had happened. The Texan was just sitting on his bike, face staring blankly ahead, oblivious to the misty rain that shrouded him. He opened the door and leant inside and caught the attention of Bower, standing guard inside the doorway now that the bar was getting busier.

"Tell Jake there's trouble."

Vin was aware of the massive biker's scrutiny and knew he was spreading the word as he watched him duck his head inside the thick doors. He wished he could ask him to lend him a hand getting off his bike, but there was about as much chance of him doing that as there was Keg and the other men coming back from the dead so he didn't have to deal with this alone. The worst part, the part that was eating at him, was that he knew the only reason he was able to walk into this place right now, was because they _were_ all dead. If even one of them had lived, his life as he knew it would be radically altered.

He replayed again the sight of the young guard staggering back under the impact of his well placed bullet and he couldn't help but have a fleeting moment of doubt. He was a man, above all else, and he felt guilt. Guilt that he was sitting there and Keg was at that moment lying in a pool of his own blood, at the will of his own hand; guilt that a kid had had to die when he was just trying to protect a man he thought was his brother. Taking a life was not something he was proud of, nor was it something he could casually dismiss. Tonight he'd taken more than one. And the guilt was no stranger to him.

Still, dwelling on emotion was not going to get him anywhere. The only help he was going to get would have to come from within, he expected nothing more, had never received anything more. So it was that he put his weight on his left leg and swung his injured knee over his low seat, turning the handle bars slightly to the left as he did so to balance the bike, before starting for the doorway.

As he reached the sheltered entrance, he was lit by twin headlights passing slowly by and turned his head toward the sight. He couldn't make out the driver, but instinct told him he'd been followed by one of Larabee's men. From the size of the ridiculously large, totally conspicuous car, he concluded that it was most likely Buck Wilmington. Mere moments with the man had given him the impression of an extrovert; the car seemed a suitable match.

"Doc still in?" he asked, turning back to the doorway with one hand pressed to his side, struggling to appear

outwardly composed as he met Bounce's curious eyes.

Bounce eyed the blood coming from Vin's face as he nodded, looking down to the hand held close to his side with a raised brow. "Jake's in too. You might wanna see him first."

Damn. Having to explain himself to the second in command was not something he'd anticipated. Saying nothing more, he walked past the larger man and paused a moment to adjust to the dimness of the light, just as he had only a short while earlier. Only now he was feeling truly vulnerable, for his energy was fast fleeing and he had no true allies that he knew of in town. Back in Texas, he knew every member like the back of his hand but here, although familiar with them, only Keg had been someone he could trust to watch his back, and now he was gone.

It was all he could do to appear outwardly calm as the penetrating eyes of the now crowded room cut through the darkness like thin, criss-crossing red lasers from all angles, searing into his skin and reflecting off the moisture still coating his face until he thought he might burn from it… Men stared and conversations paused as the visiting Texan walked slowly across the floor, the crowd clearing a slow path for him as he met their curious glances with a hard look, even as he shivered through his soaked jacket.

He didn't look at anyone in particular, but he took them all in as he headed toward the bar to ask after the doc. And then in a heartbeat, his world turned upside down.

"You lookin' for a warm bed, honey?"

Amidst the whirlwind of that night, despite the shrouding of his mind in pain and coldness, he would always

remember the sound of that sultry voice, the first time that he ever laid eyes on Suzy Munroe. In one glance, his adrenaline surged and then his blood stopped flowing altogether, quickly withdrawing from his system and taking with it his breath, his energy and for a moment, his ability to think.

Munroe was a name Suzy had given herself, after the famous Marilyn, for she had never known her real last name and liked the thought of fashioning herself after the sex kitten that was her idol. She was, however, in no way a carbon copy of anyone, as unique as each dawn was forever different sprayed across the sky. She was Suzy. She was complicated, she was sexy, but above all else, she was Billy 'The Blade's' woman and had been since she was fifteen years old.

Vin, however, knew none of this. At that moment of meeting he saw only a face that was forever imprinted in his mind, a face he had never been sure he might recognise after twenty-two years of its absence from his life… A face that was the very image of his mothers. His shock and confusion was impossible to hide, he was drowning in a sudden and powerful wave of memories, thrown over him with an unstoppable intensity that he would not have been able to prepare himself for, even had he been forewarned.

Something in his face faltered her predatory smile. Not an inch of him moved as he stood before her, but she saw the shift in his vivid blue eyes, looking without seeing her, haunted almost. It was by no means the usual reaction she had from men. It didn't matter what background a man had or what he did for a living, or even what age he was, she had seen her affect on all of them, men were men. Except maybe this one. There was something to his expression that had her biting back her next taunt and stepping forward instead to put a hand to his bruised and bleeding lip.

"Seen a ghost, sugar?" she whispered. Nevertheless, she could not help adding, "You sure are a cute one, reckon I wouldn't kick you out of bed for bleedin' all over my sheets."

Vin had not yet found his voice, was still shocked at the sight of her before him and was feeling her touch like a brand to his cold skin. He thought he'd forgotten the face of his mother over time, with not even a picture to remind him of her, but in one glimpse of pale skin and dark hair, he'd been thrown back to his childhood, back through an onslaught of memories that left him blind-sided. After all he had endured that night, this one woman was threatening to finally knock him off his feet by her presence alone.

A rough and mighty arm coming down around her shoulders broke the moment and Vin watched her try in vain to pull away from the man who had ensnared her.

"Well now Suz', looks like I can't leave ya alone fer a second now, does it, 'fore yer out tryin'a find a way ta fill that gapin' hole 'tween yer legs."

Suzy, indifferent to the size of the man, managed to step out of his reach and merely smile at him, her wet, red lips glistening as she ran her tongue along her teeth. It was Jake, her constant guard and Billy's best friend and Vice President of the Denver Chapter.

"Billy isn't cutting through my leesh tonight. I came to have some fun." She looked again at Vin, who's eyes had lost the haunted look as his focus had shifted to Jake.

Jake looked at the Texan who had yet to move or speak and saw his eyes focused on him. He knew who the man was. As Billy's right hand man, he knew everything that went on in their territory. He knew about every single member that was voted in, because they had to have a unanimous vote from the club. This man, however, had come with the backing of Sugar-Ray, so there had been little question of his worthiness. Sugar-Ray was a well respected and long time member. If he considered this man a brother, then so would the club, the vote was a formality, but a necessity. Besides, Turner had won the club a lot of money with his fights, not to mention the money he'd personally pocketed, so he was glad to finally meet him. He'd missed meeting him in Texas when he'd gone down to sort out the mess with the Fed bust, when they had lost three loyal brothers, because they had refused him bail.

"Turner."

Vin was struggling to maintain his calm. In the second time in as many minutes, another face from his past had reared its unexpected head and this time, the wash of memories were in no way fond. He had never seen a clear photo of the vice president and the grainy prints that he had seen in newspapers and on the website had never clued him in to who the man actually was. It was through a child's eyes that he had taken images that had been burnt forever into his mind. The face was older, twenty-two years older in fact, but the red hair and long, unkempt beard were the same. Still fashioned in the same style, looking as though it had never had a decent wash and pulled back in a scraggly, long platte, his face appeared sharp in the light, just like it had when it had hovered over his mother on the floor, laughing and groaning into her face…

Vin felt his hands clench unwittingly into fists of renewed rage, his chest on fire more now from the pain of fury restrained than from his battered ribs. Jake's eyes narrowed as he took in Vin's shoddy appearance, registering the blood at his side and the wounds that marred his skin and mistook the anger he suddenly saw in his face for pain.

Vin saw the frown form on the man's face, but his inner struggle was too fierce. He wanted to rip this man

apart, wanted to scalp that head of hair and see his white skull glisten through the roof of his head as he held the hair above him in triumph and slowly watched him die… An act of terrible violence that he had never fully grasped before, but right then seemed to understand completely. Yet he could not. Knew he could not, for then his quest for revenge would be stopped at the death of only one of the men he needed to bring down - and that was not what he had lived for all these years.

He tried a slow, calming breath, stopped short by the reluctance of his ribcage to expand to the depth he needed it to. He had to rationalise not killing him. He was getting close now, he told himself. After long, hard years of chasing their paths he was now right in their very nest. His past was finally coming to meet him just as he had always hoped it would. Lomely had surprised him with the transfer ultimatum that seemed completely unprecedented and he had to admit, it had happened so fast he had not had the time to sit down and realise what an opportunity it really was, but now he knew that he was going to use every day of his three month's to the fullest. In the course of just one week he'd gotten closer to his goals than he had since the day he'd set out to exact revenge on those that had destroyed his life. He just had to be patient…

And so whilst his fists remained clenched, he managed to keep the raw anger from his voice as he grated roughly in greeting, "Jake."

Jake frowned as he nodded down at Vin's bloodied hand but before he could speak again, Suzy spoke once more.

"You got a first name, sugar?"

Vin could not bring himself to look at her again. He was thankful when Jake roughly shoved her away. He couldn't think with her near him.

"Go play over there for a while before I chuck you on the bike and take you back now."

She threw a look of promised retribution at Jake before taking another look at Vin, her face showing a not so subtle promise as she walked away. She would get what she wanted in time, for Suzy too, had mastered the art of patience, but for now she did not fancy a cold, dark ride back to the clubhouse in the rain.

Chooks' had walked up as Suzy had walked off, laughing at her as he passed her and turning to make a crack about her ass as she walked and pulled a finger sign back at him in response. He stopped and looked at Vin and Jake staring each other down.

"Rest'a the boys get lost?" he asked, taking in Vin's appearance. He had known Decker was chasing a fight with Turner and had cared little except to see what the outcome would be. He was curious himself to see how the Texan handled himself in a fight. His reputation had preceded his arrival for years.

Vin kept his face neutral as he exchanged a silent, assessing gaze with the man who ran the bar. There was an obvious smirk on Chooks' face that told him he knew full well where his beaten up face had come from. Had he called Decker to let him know where he was?

"If ya call hell lost," he said in his quiet drawl. He flicked a glance around the room before his eyes settled once more on Jake's, ignoring Chooks. It clearly told the bar manager that Jake was the only one he would answer to. "They're dead," he said simply, eyes hard.

Chooks' own eyes narrowed slightly as the noise of the room fell in time with the murmurs that echoed Vin's quiet statement. Chooks deferred to Jake, not sure what to make of Turner's words but the Vice President merely raised a brow at the wounded, wet man standing before them, with something akin to amusement in his eyes. Decker had been a prick through and through and he'd been loud about his desire to take Turner out. He'd been warned not to interfere with a fellow brother but obviously his hatred had gotten the better of him. As far as Jake was concerned, a man who could not control his emotions was a liability to the club and perhaps Decker had had it coming. Still, no death of a brother was without repercussion. To stop the voices rising around the room, knowing how the boys were likely to go off half cocked if not stopped, he kept his voice calm.

"Well now," he put an arm around Vin to steer him to the back office, "his brother sure ain't gonna like that. Let's take this somewhere more private, shall we?" He called to the room, "Nobody leaves the bar until we hear the whole story... Get the doc," he told Chooks in a lower voice.

While Vin was glad that the doc was being called for, it didn't lessen the desire he had to take the heavy arm guiding him over his shoulders and snap it in two. As they reached the back office door, a small, frail-looking older man stepped before them, his face a little flushed. He was one of the oldest members of the club and his constant refusals to retire had led to him being put to work monitoring the police channels.

"There's something goin' down in the city, the cops are all over the club," he informed Jake.

"Good work, keep listening in," Jake humoured him sincerely. The older man took in the sight of Vin and nodded, moving away.

As they entered the room they were met with the sight of another wiry biker sitting behind Chook's desk, but this one was naked and covered in tattoo's. There were remnants of cocaine on the desk before him and his forehead was resting on the dark wood. Hearing them enter he lifted glassy eyes to take them all in.

"Playing boss-man, Dermett?" Chooks asked him as he followed them into the room.

Dermett didn't answer, just gave a slight grunt of acknowledgement as his grin widened, to which Chooks raised a brow, telling Dermett to get the hell out of his office.

Dermett was slightly agitated and thinking he'd leave when he was ready, until he finally realised it was Jake

standing there staring at him. He stood hastily then, pulling his pants up roughly as he did so and

catching skin in his zipper as he hurried to do them up. His cry of pain was met by sympathetic winces from the three onlookers as he tried to undo the metal teeth that were maiming him. When he'd succeeded in the delicate extraction he reached a hand under the table and with a cry of "OW!" from beneath the desk, a head of blonde, tousled hair came up to see what the hell was going on.

"Sorry," Dermett stammered to the men, pulling out the still protesting woman. "Come on, darlin', you can finish me off somewhere else."

"Yeah preferably somewhere that doesn't put your bare ass on my chair!" Chooks was pissed.

The man gave Vin no more than a passing glance as he left, tugging the scantily clad woman behind him and walking gingerly from his recent mishap with his jeans. The woman, however, had other plans. She stopped before Jake, high as a kite and grinned at him through her smeared lipstick. She knew who he was. To her, he was a man of great power and could get her everything she wanted. She sniffed habitually before opening her mouth to speak, but was dragged away from the amused Vice President, who was well used to such behaviour from women, by a suddenly hurried Dermett.

Chooks shook his head slightly as Dermett left with the woman and closed the door behind them, only to have it opened again by Doc, who shuffled his way in.

"Where's the fire?" the tall, lanky man asked, pushing his thin, wire-rimmed glasses up his nose.

Chooks pointed to Vin and the Doc moved unsteadily toward him, already three pints down on a short evening. Jake gestured to the black leather couch and watched as Vin sat slowly, hand still held to his side, his pain restrained but obvious. His face was cut and bleeding, dark new bruises mingling with old as he tried to keep his body taut as it sank into the leather.

Jake then moved to the desk and went for the top drawer, finding a packet of cigarettes just as he knew he would. He came around to Vin and offered him one, the Texan shaking his head and grinding his jaw at the same time as he shifted on the couch. The second in command merely shrugged and sat back on the edge of Chooks' desk, lighting his smoke as the Doc unsteadily knelt before the Texan.

Any member of the club dying was a big deal, so the chapter vice president knew that the situation had to be

handled carefully before the news was leaked to the rest of the club. Billy in particular would be pissed if he wasn't the first to hear. More than that, though, Texan or not they had lost some brother's tonight. Somebody was responsible for that and according to the law of nature, for every action there was a reaction.

Vin, too, knew how delicate the situation was and he had the added burden of knowing that what he said now could alter the outcome. He needed to think straight... He barely noticed the luxurious black leather beneath him, its soft texture lost to the wet denim of his jeans. The room was in stark contrast to the rest of the establishment, the only betrayal of the amount of money that was behind it, with expensive furniture and a bar with top shelf spirits lining its mirrored glass shelves.

Stealing a glance across at Jake, he realised he was fighting a losing battle to contain his lust for revenge. One of the men who had helped kill his mother was casually standing mere feet away smoking a cigarette and he could do nothing… not if he wanted to see this thing through to the end... but it didn't make it any easier to take right then.

"Jesus I can't make out the new from the old," the Doc grumbled, not knowing where to start as he took in the signs of injury that were visible beyond Vin's jacket.

The Doc was a man not yet past his thirties, but appeared to be approaching fifty. He had once thought himself a decent enough man, not considering his white-collar crimes to be high on the scale of evil. A regular house doctor, he'd been jailed for two years, guilty of ripping off the government in what he had considered a foolproof insurance scam. He'd come out of jail a changed man - and a considerably more educated one. He'd never known what really went on on the darker side of the street until he'd had his freedom taken away. He'd lived life well and hard after that, but it had taken its toll.

Vin sat up straighter and pulled his jacket further aside. "Jist deal with this one."

The Doc's eyes narrowed as he looked at the still bleeding, deep gash that tore through skin mottled with bruises both new and old. He put out a surprisingly steady hand to probe the lean flesh as he studied the wound with a serious expression.

"This the only one?"

Vin flinched as the Doc's fingers brought him inevitable pain. "Yep," he breathed.

The Doc said nothing for a moment, prodding at the wound so that Vin thought he might actually pass out. Not an entirely unwelcome idea at that moment. The wire rims came up to look at him, scrutinising his face, knowing there were previous injuries here and he could tell by Vin's sharp breathing that there was more than the bullet wound bothering him. "You got some cracked ribs?"

"Jist deal with what's bleedin'," he said in a gruff voice, his eyes telling the man not to make a fuss. He would not show any more weakness than he had to.

Finally, the tall man turned on his heels and looked up at Jake through his glasses. "I can run him into County, we've got a man on tonight."

"You can't stitch it here?" Jake asked, having watched the exchange in silent contemplation.

The Doc looked at the wound again. "He's going to need something for infection. And this surrounding bruising is deep..." His voice trailed off as he looked at Vin's face, studying it a moment. "Looks like he's already coming down with something, shivering and sweating like he is."

Vin let them talk around him for the moment, worried more about trying to work out the story in his head than in what the Doc's prognosis was. The questions were going to start and he had to be ready.

Jake looked at Vin a moment. "Wait outside then," he told the former doctor, who immediately complied.

Vin watched the Doc leave and resisted the urge to sigh. This was it… the inquisition he wasn't ready for. He was surprised by the first question.

"You lose your shirt somewhere out there?"

Frowning slightly he looked down, realising he wasn't wearing his t-shirt. He had an image of throwing it to the ground as his mind spun. With the smoothness that had kept him alive, in much worse situations, he showed a cunning, smug grin.

"Traded it. Bitch said she wanted a real bikers' shirt… authentic-like…"

Chooks broke his silence from where he leant nearby against the wall, always interested in a dirty story. "Traded it? At the club?"

Vin was crass in his reply, for they would expect no less. The zipper-man that they'd walked in on earlier had given him an idea. "She blew me right on the dance floor," he frowned slightly then, going with his story as he looked down at his pants in apparent momentary regret. "She had some fuck'n teeth, though…" Vin sighed inwardly as the bar manager chuckled slightly, buying his story without question. One hurdle leapt...

"What happened to Decker? And where's Flea and Keg?"

They would have their answers, one way or another and better they come from him than a police informant.

"They're all dead." He let this news settle a moment before taking up his story, looking Jake in the eye. "Keg an' me had the guy outside... were gettin' stuck into him… then Decker an' Flea show up an' make it a whole lot bigger than it had ta be." He looked angry then, which was not hard to pull off. With the thought 'the best defence is an offence' in mind he looked right into Chooks' eyes with a silent accusation. "Keg, Flea, Decker, some security kid… dead, all of 'em in one big fuck'n mess that didn't have ta happen. Decker came down there ta take a shot at me an' it weren't the time or place... but I reckon ya'll know that already..."

Chooks' eyes fired with anger but Jake merely stared back, weighing each word, sifting through every syllable, watching…

"Decker started on me an' we were so into it that we never heard the cops sneakin' up from the carpark. They were comin' ta check out the noise I guess, or someone tipped 'em off, but the second they popped their heads out Decker pulled his gun an' fired, negotiation fuckin' over." He bit back a curse for emphasis. "Then everythin' went ta hell."

He paused a moment then said with derision, "His eyes were fried, they didn't have a choice but ta fire back."

"There's always a choice," Jake said, with no judgement in his tone.

Vin knew that to say more then would be a mistake. He needed to keep it short, get it right. He needed to appear weary, yet frustrated, angry and upset over the loss all at once. All of this, while he tried his damnedest not to fall off the couch. It was a moment before Chooks spoke into the silence following his statement and his unexpected words brought Vin relief.

"I told that idiot to settle down earlier tonight. The guy had a nose like a fucking vacuum cleaner." He shook his head angrily, accepting Vin's words.

"I'm sure you did," Jake told Chooks quietly and Vin picked up on the sarcasm. Chooks was obviously trying to lay the blame on Decker as well, having known what he was up to and wanting to make sure he didn't get himself caught up in it.

He didn't dare look up, could only hope they were buying into his story.

"But there weren't no surveillance scheduled for tonight, why were the cops there?" Chooks finally asked, looking at Jake.

Vin shook his head slightly. "Don't think they were on duty… I saw 'em upstairs and I think they were jist out fer a drink. They mighta been headin' home through the carpark or someone mighta tipped 'em off. They showed up right after Decker and Flea did..." He didn't say it outright, but he wanted to plant the seed.

Chooks was still watching him, but he was buying it, he thought. He had better, cos if he didn't, they wouldn't be letting him go any time soon.

"And how'd you get away?" Jake asked in the same quiet voice, continuing his close watch of Vin's expression and body language.

Vin looked up and again met Jake's gaze. "I saw 'em go down, I was near a pillar... dove behind it, one of 'em clipped me as I made a run for it." He was already thinking of what question might come next when his vision blurred and he felt himself slipping forward, managing to get an elbow onto his knee and his hand up to rest his forehead in before he fell any further forward.

Chooks threw a glance at Jake. The young Texan was going to pass out. "Did they see you? Can they identify you?" Jake asked.

Vin shook his head, but did not raise it again, his voice sounding tired. "No... was too dark... there was too much goin' on. 'Less there were cameras." As he said this last he considered that possibility and cursed his fading brain. _Would the ATF agent posing as the manager see to that?_

Jake took another long, slow drag on his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and squashing it with his boot. He didn't need to see Chooks' face to know how pissed off he would look over the singed, plush carpet.

"When we're done here call Mitri and make sure the tapes are taken care of," he told the angry man without taking his eyes off Vin.

After another pause he spoke again. "Keg was an old friend of yours..."

Vin looked up tiredly, the VP's words stirring fresh emotion that he allowed to run across his face.

"... I would think you would want revenge for his death."

Vin looked him in the eye, a heavy feeling falling into the pit of his stomach. "Who says I don't?" He gave a small shake of his head. "I've known Keg since I's a kid... but those cops... they couldn't back away from what Decker threw at 'em." He shook his head slowly, "I reckon it's the cops that are gonna be pissed at us over this one. We attacked first, unprovoked."

Jake felt a smile turn his lips. The boy was a thinker, he'd give him that. In fact, he was impressed that he'd thought that far ahead. Some of the boys would act first and try and take out the whole damn force before they thought it through. On the other hand, there was a chance he was lying to cover his own ass. The fact that he was the only one to make it out alive was not easy to buy. Perhaps it meant he was simply a coward and hadn't backed his brothers...

"You don't find it strange you're the only one to walk away tonight?"

Vin scowled in protest as he felt a surge of anger that he was sitting there defending himself to a man that he would rather be choking to death with his bare hands. "I did everythin' I could."

After another too long silence Jake leant back. "Of course you did..."

Vin had a hard time trying to work out if the man believed him, for his tone gave nothing away.

"Go see Doc and get cleaned up and then I'll get one of the boys to take you out to headquarters before this hits the news."

Vin pushed up off the armrest and stood unsteadily, fighting the spin of the room before he managed to get his balance and headed to the door, meeting over. He had no idea what Jake was going to do now and that bothered him. He was pretty good at reading men, but he had to give the man credit, he was smarter than he'd thought he would be. He could sense his mind at work as he'd looked at him in that silent way. A man who chose his words very carefully, that was something Vin could understand well. Whatever happened, he was going out to the headquarters, and that alone was a step in the right direction. _That is where he would find his father._

Chooks had been an easier sell, but the man held no weight with the club. He would have to come up with

something better before he reached headquarters and had to go over it all again. He found the Doc, who had gone back to his table for his fourth beer on the way out. This was going to be an interesting journey…

Back inside the office Jake lit another cigarette and looked at Chooks. "You buy all that?" He didn't really put much stock in his opinion, Chooks was not a known thinker, but he was loyal.

The bar manager looked hard at Jake, trying to determine what the vice-president wanted him to think and failing, gave a slight shrug.

Jake merely gave a short grunt and moved around to sit at the desk, reaching for the phone. He had to let Billy know what had happened before someone else did.

"You want me to call Mitri?" Chooks asked as Jake started dialling on his phone.

"Find another phone."

And with that Chooks tried and failed to check his annoyance that he was being kicked out of his own office to do the man's bidding.


	7. Deception in the Ranks

**Part 7. Deception in the Ranks**

Hours later, Chris sat at the small bench in his kitchen, the only light on the entire floor of his apartment building coming from his window. It was well past midnight and he should have been attempting sleep, yet there he sat, Vin Tanner's file strewn out over the light wood before him.

There had been no picture of the agent and from what he'd read, he had assumed he'd look different somehow. Indeed, his first impression of seeing him cross the club floor had been one of a hard, lean man, but it wasn't until he had seen his eyes that his opinion had really begun to form. He had blended well with the other bikers, but again, it was that integrity burning in his eyes that had marked him apart from them, he had seen it clearly.

He scanned the words written before him: Sharpshooter; weapons expert; combat specialist… but his own eyes were no longer focusing on the words, they were seeing again the sharp shots of deadly accuracy that had been dealt from Tanner's hand. Deadly, that's what the guy was, that's what all these words led to. He knew all of his skills, his achievements, but he didn't know the one thing he found he wanted to know… What was driving this man? _And why did he care? _He hadn't cared about anything in a long, long time, so why now was this man's quest becoming his own? For it already had. Their paths were linked months before he had even met him. If he were to indulge in such thoughts, he might even call it destiny.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face then, wincing and automatically flexing his stiff, wounded arm. He looked down at the bandage that wrapped around his bicep, which he hadn't bothered to cover with a t-shirt after his shower. Looking at the white strip of material, he was reminded of the Texan's own bullet wound and unconsciously glanced at the phone sitting nearby. Benning had been right to the point when he had called him earlier to tell him all that had happened that night - _Get the Texan in off the street, ASAP._

With another weary sigh, he stood and flexed his neck, trying to relieve the cramp that had settled there and heard a loud snap that made him grunt with relief. He may as well get some sleep, it was going to be a hell of a day tomorrow. Still, he took his phone with him and put it on the bedside table, giving it a scowl as he turned off the light.

He hadn't done the right thing letting the Texan ride off, only it was too damn late to realise it.

..

**3am, Denver Central Police Station**

"Sir, you're going to have to wait, we're just real busy right now. You might want to check your house, your daughter may have turned up at home by now, you know how teenage girls can be…"

Sergeant Anderson did not get to say another word when Paul McBride's massive fist found the collar of his starched uniform and clutched it in a deadly grip. The father of two, of which his youngest was now missing, leaned in close to the Sergeant's face, his voice rough. Worry, anger, fear and frustration poured into his words.

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch. My little girl don't walk the streets at 3am. She's fuckin'-well missing I tell you and her friend says they were being followed by three bikers." He shook the man again. "If those pricks have her and you're standing here feeding me this shit, I'm going to cut out your worthless heart. Now fucking do something about it before I call the tv people in here myself and let the whole damn city know what an incompetent asshole you are!"

Anderson swallowed and was relieved when the Chief himself came around to put a calming hand on the big man's shoulder.

"Ok Sergeant, I'll take it from here." The grey-haired man told the distraught man in a soothing tone that was meant to placate the worried father as well.

McBride whirled on the older man and threw off the placating hand.

"How many times am I going to be passed from one prick to the next before I reach someone who actually has the balls to do something around here? You guys are dicking me around and my daughter could be – " he broke off then, unable to bring himself to think where his fourteen year old daughter could be right then. He had allowed her to stay at a friends place for the night, waking to the dreaded phone call that she had gone missing.

"I'm in charge here son, so let's go and sort this out right now. Come on, come with me."

The slightly pacified man did not speak again, his emotions threatening to spill over as the Denver Police Chief led him through the scattered desks of the police department to a small, quiet, but overly warm room.

He got up and went to work every day, never afraid to get his hands dirty, but never able to say he loved laying bricks for a living. He paid his taxes, loved his wife and family like nothing else in his life… and he got this. His baby was missing… and bikers might have taken her.

A half hour later, having convinced the distraught father to wait with his family at home, assuring him that he would go above and beyond to get his daughter back and call him the minute he had news, the head of the Denver Police Force sat alone in his office and made a phone call, waiting impatiently for someone to answer while he played with a lackey band by repeatedly stretching it between his fingers.

"Hello?"

"Get Jake on the phone."

There was a silence before a familiarly quiet voice came down the line.

"What's up, Levitz?"

Just the tone of the smug voice made him angry. "Your boys took a girl tonight. I need her back - in one piece."

Jake laughed at the assertiveness the man tried to inflect in his voice. "Don't tell me you're growing a set on me now, Chief," he mocked.

Levitz sighed, frustrated but never knowing how to get what he wanted from the club that had long been paying his way to retirement. "The media are circling. There were witnesses to the shooting tonight and there were witnesses to the girl taken off on a bike. Before morning this will be all over the news and I don't need this kind of heat - the girl's fathers' going nuts." He paused, "You have to give me something," he almost begged. "You have to give me some _one_," he reiterated.

Jake's laugh grated down the man's weak spine. "Calm yourself old man, I'll be in touch... we wouldn't want the big bad end of the law to come after us now would we?"

Levitz listened to the laugh again as the phone went dead in his ear and returned his own phone to its cradle. He moved to the window, still stretching the rubber band around his fingers. Those sons of bitches had had him over a barrel for years. Sometimes he wished he had of just faced his demons all those years ago, instead of striking a deal with the Devil himself.

..

Back in Chook's office Jake hung up the phone and studied its smooth surface in silence. He looked up at Chooks.

"What do you know about a missing girl?"

Chooks flinched and Jake had his answer.

"Where is she?"

"There's a party going on at a hotel 'cross town. We might find her there."

Jake gave a derisive shake of his head. If the cops had witnesses it was going to get complicated. Someone would have to take the fall if it came to it. He wasn't sure if Turner had been lying to him tonight or not, but it did take the trouble of having to worry about him from his plate. He already knew what Billy would say - better one of the Texan boys than one of their own. It wasn't personal with Turner, truth be told he

admired the man. Probate's were supposed to take the fall for voted brothers, but Billy put his probates ahead of anyone outside his own chapter, as against the national code as that was. At that moment, Turner was on the top of the expendable list.

"Did you get hold of Mitri?"

"Yeah, he says someone turned the camera's off just before the fight. Must've been Keg."

Jake looked thoughtful. "There were witnesses to the girl being taken. Make sure there's no tape of that."

..

Hours after leaving the Shaking Hand with the Doc, Vin awoke slowly, groggily, not even beginning to think any thoughts as his disconnected body and mind worked to find a common ground. There was no pain, no cold, no noise… nothing. It was like he was in a void. He drifted for a while, simply lying calmly, not aware of much until finally sounds outside his room began to register. Voices, music, the heavy noises of bodies moving about, a glass breaking.

Then he was lost… lost in another time, another place where muffled voices and laughter usually preceded terrible things, dark things he had not made sense of back then. He heard a woman laugh and in his mind he saw large men, their faces sneering and their hair wild and long as they reached out for her, laughing as she backed away. Then he moaned and suddenly all was quiet… had they heard him? No no no… but they moved on, going after the woman again.

He could smell the cigarette smoke in the air above him and the strange, sweet smell of the other stuff they smoked that he did not mind, for it usually meant the night was nearly over, that they would fall asleep soon, scattered around the house like the carcases of large beasts.

The sound of heavy boots overhead, thumping across the boards, drew his attention. Someone was coming… And then with the sound of a loud sneeze, the boots moved on and after a while, he dared to breath again, but he still did not move out from under the house.

In time, Vin began to make a connection with his body, his mind gradually grasping his current reality and he felt the tightness of his skin and the slight chill of the room in which he lay, but still his eyes remained closed. He simply breathed, unaware of his environment and not aware enough then to care, his dark thoughts still lingering in the past.

It took another ten minutes before he began to open his eyes, finding nothing but darkness above him, all around him. _Was he blind? _He moved a hand up to the smooth skin of his chest, feeling its coolness beneath his hand, registering the thick bandage at his side… and finally he began to piece it together. The club… the cops, Keg, Decker, Flea, all dead… riding back, meeting Jake, the Doc… He tried to lift his head slightly then, _Jesus where the hell was he?!_ He didn't remember anything from the time Doc had opened the door of his mustang for him and he had gotten in. Had he passed out? By the feel of the bandage at his side, he had made it to the hospital, but judging by the sounds outside his room, he wasn't there now.

With a low moan, he tried to get up, wanting to find the light, wanting to find out where the hell he was, wanting to visit the bathroom, _badly_. He recognised the languid feeling in his limbs for what it was, putting it together with the bandages and realising he must have made it to the hospital at least. Whatever they'd knocked him out with was still lingering in his system.

A loud bang came from outside and suddenly there were shouts and the sounds of a woman screaming. Vin sat up straight, suddenly very much awake, trying desperately to shake off his sluggishness. A massive explosion of what could only have been a shotgun barked out from beyond the wall as he got his legs to the floor, stopped by a wave of dizziness. Then suddenly the door was flung open, flooding the room in light and men in black vests, wearing headgear and armed to the teeth, stormed into the room.

"DON'T MOVE ASSHOLE!" a booming voice commanded him.

Vin blinked up at the blinding light and the silhouette of the men facing him, unable to make them out clearly through his still blurry vision as he perched on the edge of the bed.

"Get your hands up above your head!"

He managed one hand up and half raised the other, feeling for the first time his left side tighten and pull in protest.

"I said get your hands up!"

He rose them higher, jaw hard, eyes trying to cut through the blurry light and still not knowing what the hell was going on.

"In here Chief! We've found her Sir!"

Found her...? Found _who_? He turned his head to look around the room but was forced to stop as he was shouted at once again.

"I'm warning you, you sack of shit, don't – _move!_" the voice commanded and Vin made out a gun aiming higher, towards his head. Judging by the scope he could see, he knew there would be a red dot right about centre of his forehead. These guys were serious.

One of the men approached the bed and Vin prepared himself for attack, but the man moved around him to the other side. Then the men before him parted and another man entered through the door, moving to stand between them as he looked around the room. Vin looked up and blinked, but could not see the man's shadowed face. It was all he could do to remain still as the silence stretched, only the sounds of order's being barked and men and women protesting outside the room reaching his ears, until the man before him finally spoke.

"Is she alive?"

"Yes Sir. She appears to be unconscious, but her vitals are stable," the man said from beside Vin.

Vin felt a cold dread begin in his stomach. What the hell was going down here? He wanted to turn his head and look, but knew they were after any excuse to shoot him.

"Get her out of here - _now_," the Chief ordered and by the sound of his voice Vin presumed he was an older man.

Vin felt the bed dip beside him and after a moment the man walked past him into the light and Vin could make out the form of a dead weight in his arms, with short, blonde hair catching in the light as he lifted her out. This was bad. Whatever the fuck this was, it was _bad_. He looked up at the Captain as the tall man stepped towards him.

"Flemming, Chad, stay here, the rest of you wait outside."

"Yes sir," came the response and Vin watched two men leave, while the others moved closer towards him.

He looked up at the Chief's eyes as the man loomed above him and suddenly he was yanked to his feet and held up by his shoulders.

_"She's only fourteen you son of a bitch!"_

The backhand took him by surprise, snapping his head to the side before he was dragged back up to face the enraged Chief, but still he did not respond. How the hell could he? He was still struggling to piece it together when the first hit sank into his stomach, steeling his breath as he sank to his knees, adjusting to the newly heightened pain before they dragged him up again.

It took only minutes before he fell slack between the men holding him, but they were long, hard, painful minutes that he endured and he never got to speak a word in his defence. His last memory was of the taste of blood on his lips and he had a strong sense of de ja vu. Only then, it had been the wrong side of the law paying him a lesson – and at least then, he had known the reason why.

..

Ezra woke up slowly, adjusting to the silent room around him. It took a while to clear his head and register the sounds of the hospital beyond his room.

"So, you finally decide to wake up."

It was not the voice he had been expecting, although the slight accent was familiar to his ears. He turned his head, adjusting to the pale light and found the face of Mitri Vlahov beside him, standing by the window, looking down with a thoughtful expression.

He was fast regaining his thoughts, one had to in his line of work. It was second nature to him to first put in place who, and _what_ exactly, he was expected to be, before he said a single word.

"Mr Vlahov... I trust you'll forgive me for not closin' up this mornin', I found myself entertainin' some unexpected guests."

A faint smile found Mitri's lips as the older man moved forward, his face now shadowed as he turned his back to the light from the window.

"I am the one who must apologise, I also did not know that my club has a white-only employment policy," he flicked a glance then at the door, before suddenly stepping forward and taking the chair by Ezra's bed.

"If I might make a suggestion?" Ezra said wryly, "perhaps in future checking the fine print would not be unwise when choosing nefarious criminals to partner with."

Mitri was silent a moment, apparently weighing his words. "I know you are an intelligent man..."

Ezra looked down at the compliment, not sure where the man was going. He obviously had a reason for coming here.

"...I also know that you defended this black man, and that is why you are here now. A very stupid, but very

honourable thing to do."

Ezra looked up then and could indeed see something different in Mitri's eyes that had not been there previously. There was respect there. In stepping up to defend Nathan, he had won points with his boss.

"Back in my country, we had much trouble with men who ran the town… Corruption that did not stop until it reached the top." The older man looked down as he spoke, remembering. "Everybody had to answer to somebody, but there was no-one looking out for the little man." There was sincerity in his eyes when he looked up and passion in his words when he went on. "I came here, to this country, to escape this, to make a better life, to be free… and here I am, caught up again in the same greed, the same story of men wanting power over the smaller man…"

Ezra remained silent as Mitri looked at him again, his face wanting the Southerner to understand. He had never had much of a conversation with the man in the last few months beyond work and procedures, so still had no idea where this was leading.

"This black man that you employed, your friend that they tried to beat… he did nothing, I do not like this bullying of men, it is the same in every country. The people of my town had no chance in life, no way of escaping, they forced us to choose another life if we wanted to make it better for ourselves, for our families - so we come here to start again - to make our own choices." He paused a moment. "These men came to me. I just wanted to build something great, to have a place where people could be free and," he admitted with a slight shrug and a widened smile, "of course, I wanted to make more money."

Ezra's smile was slight but genuine. Now _that_ he could certainly understand.

"I do not care about the drugs, if I was not selling them, someone else would be. You cannot run a club nowadays and not offer the full menu, yes? I would never sell enough alcohol to these kids to make any money and I am already charging criminal prices for water."

Ezra didn't comment, Mitri had come to him, after all. He was small time compared to the bikers and that was who he was after.

"But I do not wish to live under the rule of these men any more. They are bad men, they do not have any respect for anybody and without respect for man, they are animals."

Another good point, Ezra thought, but where was this going? He waited for Mitri to continue but was surprised to see him get up to leave. The man looked down at him with an intense look.

"I am sorry that you had to suffer. I hope soon that we can find a way to stop these men for good."

Ezra looked hard at Mitri. "I could think of nothing that would suit me more."

Mitri smiled down at his employee before turning to the door. "I will see you back when you are well enough." He sighed unexpectedly. "But for now I must go, the police are wanting to speak to me. Some girl has gone missing last night, they think she was at the club." He shook his head at that as he left. As if he was meant to be responsible for every person that went there! "These parents cannot control their children and look for someone else to blame."

Ezra watched the older man leave and although his expression never changed, he was very happy with the outcome of the night's events. Bikers were dead, so it hadn't been a total waste of time. Now they would be hearing back from the Jokers in retaliation, so things were definitely heating up. They had stirred the nest, now they would just have to see what would come at them.

..

Chris awoke to the shrill sound of the phone ringing beside him and was instantly awake, grabbing it and answering quickly.

"Larabee."

"Chris, it's Will."

He was disappointed and knew why. As he looked at his watch, showing six in the morning, he realised the Texan had failed to call. Buck had informed him he had made it to the bar, but what help had he found there? He leant back against the headboard.

"Somebody die?" His voice implied somebody had better have, considering the time he'd been woken up.

Ignoring the churlish tone, Benning got to the point. "We've got a bit of a situation. Your NTF Agent just got himself arrested for the kidnapping and rape of a minor... amongst other things."

Chris was more awake than he had been for months and yet he found he had no idea how to respond to the totally unexpected words. There were too many thoughts and questions flooding through his head. It took him several long seconds to recover. "Where are they holding him?"

"County Hospital."

Chris frowned. "Because of the bullet wound?"

Benning cursed. "He's been beaten to hell and back. The Chief down there reckons his boys found him that way, but it wouldn't be the first time some punishment was dealt out at the scene. Rape of a minor doesn't go down too well with the boys, most of `em have daughters themselves."

Chris was out of bed and chasing clothes. "Where are you?"

"At home. Swing by and pick me up, we can go over what we both know on the way. I gotta tell ya Chris, something seems wrong about this. From what you told me, he wouldn't have been in any state to pull this off after he left you last night."

"Fuck, Will, he was lucky to make it _anywhere_ last night, the shape he was in. There's something else going on here."

"Well, that's where we come in. See you soon."

Chris hung up and paused as his reflection caught in the bathroom mirror and he stopped to stand before it. He didn't see his tousled reflection staring back, nor his still naked chest and lowly sitting sweat-pants. All he saw was a tail light fading out of the carpark and the voice of a quiet drawl as it pleaded with him in the rain...

'_Do you know what it will take to bring these bastards down? Do you have any idea what's involved?… These guys are fuckin' animals, and I've been living with 'em fer a year. I'm prepared ta do that, if it means I'll take 'em down in the end.'_

Blinking, he ran a hand through his hair before turning to get dressed. "You better hope you got some answers for this mess, Tanner… or it's my ass too."


	8. Loyalties Aligned

**Part 8. ****Loyalties Aligned**

Chris was silent a long, long time as he took in the sight of Vin Tanner's face. The Texan hadn't been in the best of shape the last time he'd seen him, but he hadn't looked like death itself, as he did now. Neither he, nor Will Benning said a word for a moment, as they saw for themselves the reason why Tanner had been taken to the hospital and not directly to the jail.

Chris finally moved forward toward the bed, studying the Texan's relaxed face.

"Well, whoever it was, they did a good job." He shook his head slightly, eyes hard. He spoke his thoughts aloud. "It doesn't make sense, Will... the Jokers say it wasn't them, that the cops did this when they went into the room and arrested him, yet no-one saw them do it. Why wouldn't they speak out if they saw something - and they must have seen or heard _something_... And why would the arresting officers think they could get away with this? They'd have to know he would at least get his friends in the club to come down on them all if he wasn't prepared to take legal action against them."

"Maybe they had him alone and there really were no witnesses... I hate to think along these lines, but if the cops did do this, then what they did to him would be enough reason for a man to stay quiet, in fear they'd get to him again." He dropped his voice lower. "They had no way of knowing he was undercover."

Chris shook his head. "A normal citizen perhaps would stay quiet, but not a Joker. This is paramount to declaring war on the club. They should be screaming about this... _so why aren't they?_" He moved toward the door, an air of tension surrounding him. He wanted answers. "And what the hell was he doing in there with that girl in the first place?"

Will kept his voice calm, Larabee looked ready to beat the answers out of someone. He nodded toward the bed. "He's the only one who'll be able to tell us that for sure. The boys they arrested last night sure as shit aren't saying anything."

Chris too, looked again at the silent bed before relaxing his stance. He sighed and shook his head, putting his hands into the pockets of his coat as if to contain their need for action. "He was nowhere near this bad, Will. They may not be rushing to his defence, but the bikers they rounded up all said the same thing, that he was resting up in that room and that he'd been out of it the entire time." He shook his head again and waved a hand toward the bed. "There's something way off base about this. It just doesn't add up. Who tipped the cops off in the first place?"

"Anonymous call."

"To who?"

"Chief's department."

The door opened at that moment and they both turned to see a doctor walk in. He looked at the two men, his face serious, but they noticed the nervousness in his stance.

"Is one of you Will Benning?"

"That would be me, and this is Captain Larabee," Benning said, introducing Chris who shook hands with the doctor in turn.

"I'm Doctor Leach," he looked back toward the door. "You certainly have the room secure."

Getting no response from the men, who were fully aware just how many officers were posted throughout the hospital, he continued, clearing his throat as he spoke.

"I saw to the patient when he was admitted through the ER." He nodded toward Vin.

Neither Chris nor Benning spoke, both waiting for the doctor to shed some light on the situation. Leach gave another nervous swallow into the silence, causing Chris's eyes to narrow at him in suspicion. He looked to the badge that he wore and committed his name to memory: _Doctor David Leach._

"Right, well, to cut to the chase, the bruising on his arms indicates that he was most likely held while he was beaten, to the point of unconsciousness. What you can see there on his face is pretty much an indication of the rest of his upper body. Having said that, despite all the bruising the x-rays showed he's got only one broken rib, or a re-broken rib I should say, it wasn't healed from a previous injury. There are two others that have recently healed, he was lucky they weren't damaged. The bruising is both new and old, so what I'm saying is, this isn't the first time he's been worked over recently. Given the location of his injuries, he was lucky not to damage any organs, but as it stands, the bruising and muscle damage alone will take a long while to heal. There's not a lot we can do but prescribe painkillers and tell him not to get beaten up a third time, because he might not be so lucky..."

His voice drifted off into an uncomfortable moment of silence where he was fully aware that his attempt at humour had fallen flat in the face of the two men's stoic expressions. He was hedging around the real topic and could sense their impatience.

Chris's voice was low as he looked at Vin's throat. "And the bruising around his neck..?"

"The, ah… the ambulance attendant's report states that he was asphyxiated upon their arrival, which appears to have been caused by compression to his windpipe, perhaps a choke hold, which is indicated by the bruising you can see there. He was lucky they arrived when they did."

Chris latched onto that and leaned forward slightly. "And the paramedics found him like that? He wasn't being restrained when they got there?"

"You would have to ask them."

Chris didn't bother to look at Benning, he simply narrowed his eyes until the doctors forehead finally began to glisten.

"He, uh, sustained a blow to the back of the head, which also accounts for his initial prolonged lack of

consciousness. We're calling it a medium concussion and we'll be monitoring him closely until he can stay awake and alert."

The doctor charged on ahead, wanting to say his piece and get the hell out of the room. _Why did this have to happen on his shift? Damn bikers didn't pay him enough for this shit._

"Look," he told them, for the first time his voice sounding weary, "my guess is that he was put on the floor, face down and handcuffed, his shoulder was dislocated and his wrists show abrasions conducive of being yanked by the wrists, not uncommon in prisoners I have treated that resist arrest."

Chris had to grind his jaw not to snap out a frustrated curse at that knowledge, but the doctor wasn't finished yet.

"There is also bruising on his back, where he was likely kicked or stomped with a heavy boot. Again he was lucky to avoid any serious injury, but he won't be back winning any fights for a while."

Chris's jaw rose and he did not need to say anything for the Doctor to realise his mistake.

Benning looked sharply at Chris before he, too, looked at the doctor.

David Leach took all of his years of study and intellectual growth and threw them out in one word, deciding to play dumb. "What..?"

Chris moved before another second had ticked by. He had the doctor's coat in a hard grip and the nervous man shoved against the wall with a loud thud. He growled right into his startled face. "And what sort of fights might they be? Tell me everything you know, right now,or I'll make sure the Jokers think you spoke to us regardless of whether you do or don't and whatever they're paying you won't be worth the shit I'll rain down on you."

The Doctor glanced to the other man in the room and saw no escape. Benning was slow to rise to anger but now he, too, was ready to hit something and Leach could see that clearly in his thunderous expression.

"Look, they didn't say much, Doc brought him in early this morning..."

"_Doc_?" Chris questioned, still holding the squirming man tight.

"Yeah, he's the uh, the Doctor for the club." He nodded toward Vin. "He brought him in and I treated a gunshot wound to his side. He slept through most of it. Doc said he looked like he was coming down with something and his temperature was climbing, so I gave him a shot for the pain while I stitched the wound and sent them on their way with some antibiotics."

"You didn't bother to find out what was really wrong with him if he was coming down with something?" Benning asked.

"They were in a hurry," the doctor defended.

Chris waited for all of a second and when no more information was forthcoming, gave the man another hard shake. "Then what happened?"

Leach looked from the blonde agent to the older man again, but still found no reprieve. Combined, the two of them were downright intimidating, but he knew it would be nothing compared to what would happen if the club heard him talking. Still, it wasn't the club coming down on him right then, it was these two - and they were making him damn nervous. He stole another quick glance at the door behind him before returning his eyes to the unwavering expressions before him, lowering his voice even further.

"And then the next time I saw him was when the cops brought him in, like he is now." He paused and, seeing that he was about to have his teeth rattled by the man holding him again, went on. "Look, all I'm saying is that this man was restrained and beaten into unconsciousness, nothing more, and it happened sometime after he left here this morning. I can't say what exactly happened during those hours... all's I can say is that in the condition he was in when he left, with the amount of painkillers I shot him up with..."

"...There was no way he could have raped that girl?" Chris prompted.

Leach shook his head. "Not unless he had some sort of body-regenerating sarcophagus," he tried to joke... and failed.

"A _what_?" Will looked to Chris, who in turn shook his head at the doctor.

"Did the bikers know what a nerd you were when they recruited you?"

Not happy with the length of time he'd already spent with the two agents, and not to mention offended at being called a nerd, Leach tried to take control of the situation. "He wouldn't have recovered from the shot I gave him, he was already dead on his feet by the time they left," he told them what they wanted to hear. "Look, I'll have a full report for you in a few hours but right now I have other patients to get to."

Chris gave him a hard stare before pushing him away and stepping back. "You aren't going anywhere but with us."

The doctor nearly gasped in his shock. " _What_?! I told you what I know!" he whispered harshly before looking toward the door again.

Benning shook his head. "You told us you're affiliated with the Jokers, that they come to you for help."

"No... that's not what I said."

"But you know this Doc guy personally?" Benning pushed. "Where's the report from the gunshot wound, there would have to be one, right? If everything was above board that is..."

"Of course it is," Leach said too quickly.

Chris leant forward again. "What the fuck do you take us for, Leach? You either talk here, now, or you come with us and we do this somewhere a lot more public."

Again the Doctor looked from one man to the other, feeling like a fly pinned to the wall. Either he told them more or they were going to take him in - and if they did that, he was as good as dead.

"Look, I don't do much... every now and then they come in and I'll treat one of them... or if I'm not on shift they might call me out to fix one of them up."

"And in return they pay you for turning a blind eye?" Chris asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Something like that."

"And what do you know about what happened with the girl?"

"Nothing! I swear, the cops brought him in and I haven't seen any of the club guys here since, which is actually a bit weird because usually they post a few men when one of them is down. Although..."

Chris raised a brow when the doctor stopped his ramble short, trying to reign in his already boiling anger.

Leach shook his head as if it were just a passing thought. "I was just thinking that this guy's from Texas, so maybe the local boys aren't too worried what happens to him."

Chris frowned and spoke to Benning. "What difference would that make, they're all brothers, right?"

"Supposedly," Benning said as they both looked back at the doctor to elaborate.

"Look, I don't know, it's just a thought but... these guys don't really care much for anyone outside the state. Not even their own."

Chris studied the doctor's face, trying to determine if there was truth in the man's words, then looked at Benning who nodded to him in silence. He stabbed the doctor with a hard glare of warning. "If you're lying or holding out on us, we'll be back, you can count on it."

The doctor looked between the two of them, his eyes screaming to be let go.

"And as soon as you hear what's going on, you're going to call me." Benning handed him a card, which Leach took and shoved straight in his pocket as if it had burnt his hand.

"Ok," he agreed, then saw the threat still glaring his way from the Chris's hostile green eyes. "Ok – yes! I'll call you if I hear anything at all!" He took a tentative step back and tried to straighten his rumpled shirt, not sure if they were going to let him go. He nearly sighed with relief when his hand reached the door handle and he opened the door, tasting his freedom. His chin jutted toward the bed and he put on an air of assertiveness for anyone who might be listening outside. "He'll have to stay in for a few days." Again he looked over his shoulder before looking back at them. "But we'll have to move him to another ward, so that the other patients are not disturbed if you insist on the number of men standing on duty."

Chris's lip curled as his eyes followed the doctor's hasty departure, but he said nothing. It was Benning that finally spoke as they turned back inside the room and Chris heard the laughter in his voice.

"I think you made him nervous."

He slanted his gaze at the older man. "If that prick knows more, I'm going to make him a hell of a lot more than nervous. We need to put a man on him."

Benning nodded and then a soft, short moan from the bed had him looking across the room. "This is going to be hard to keep out of the papers," he said thoughtfully.

Chris, too, was looking at the awakening man. They needed to find out what the girl had to say, but the media would not be held off forever. "Then we'd better tell them what they need to know, before they go ahead and make up their own versions."

"They'll do that anyway," Benning scoffed. He looked again at Chris, keeping his voice beyond the hearing of prying ears outside. "The fact that he was acting on his own back doesn't help matters."

Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a habitual gesture. "No, it doesn't. I know this though, you were right."

Benning's eyebrows shot up and a grin tugged at his mouth. "Well, there's a first."

"He's years ahead of any of us on getting the jump on these guys. To take him out now would be a huge step back."

He looked at Benning closely. They had known each other a long time, had both been serving their country a long time, and had seen things that average men had not seen on missions that had often lasted far too long. Sometimes, in order to do what was right, you had to do things that some might consider wrong. If they wanted to ensure Tanner's career with the NTF, ATF, or any other agency, they'd have to move fast to protect him. They both knew how the game was played.

"Did you call Lomely? Is he still ok with the transfer?"

"I spoke with him after I called you, but I didn't mention making Tanner's transfer a permanent one yet. The way I figure it, we'll have to get over this hurdle first before we can start making plans for his future. He really didn't sound all that surprised that Tanner got himself in this mess."

"But he'll support the backdating of the transfer?"

"Yes. He said Tanner would never have done anything to that girl and it was the least he could do for him... but he's not our only obstacle."

"Travis?"

Benning nodded. "He's waiting to meet with us. He called Lomely himself this morning to get his view on the

situation. Without him, this won't happen. We'll need him to sign off on it."

"And will he?"

"Orin's a good man," he said simply. Yes, he thought he would. If they could get him to agree to backdate Tanner's transfer by a week and state that he was already working with Larabee's team when the shootings went down, Tanner had a chance at keeping his job - and avoiding prosecution. For even if he was cleared of the charge of assault against him, he would still have to face questions about his activities at the club, acting on his own as he was. Travis would have to be convinced that it was the right thing to do.

Chris looked at Vin again. If the Texan wanted to stay on the right side of the law, he was going to have to accept their help. The choice was no longer his.

..

It was several hours later that Vin's mind was awash with flashes of random memory spinning out of control when a noise in the quiet room around him ended his restless dreaming. With the senses of a man long accustomed to waking quickly he slit his eyes open and took in his surroundings. It took a few seconds to make out that the shadow by his bedside was living.

"Can't seem to leave you in one piece now can I..? What is it about you that seems to piss people off so much?"

His stomach clenched at the sound of the all too familiar voice. It was a voice that summoned both relief and

apprehension. When Sugar Ray came all the way out from Texas to visit you, you could sure as hell bet it wasn't just to say howdy, he was more likely summoned to beat the crap out of you. He almost laughed at that, beginning to reason that what was one more beating anyway? Instead, he rested his head back into his pillow and with a slight sigh, listened as the voice spoke again.

"Didn't I teach ya to keep yer nose clean an' watch yer own back?"

Tanner's tired voice spoke softly into the silence. "Only so many angles ta watch from."

"That's what ya got brother's for." Sugar shook his shortly shaved head a little. "Ya never really did get that side of it." He was leaning over him, his massive arms supporting his weight by leaning into the side rail of the bed.

Vin said nothing. He could never trust any of these men to watch his back, so how could he call them his brothers?

"I told ya to stay in Texas now didn't I? This city can be one cold bitch, even to men like us."

'_Men like us? I ain't like you...'_

There was a stretched silence while Sugar took a long hard look at the man finally awake enough to hold his eyes open. He studied the blinking blue eyes and the cuts and bruises marring his skin for a long while, before stepping back to lean against the wall.

Vin wanted to go back to sleep, even his scattered dreams were better than this sudden reality. He hadn't checked in with most of his body yet, his head was still thankfully disconnected from his pain, but it was just around the corner, he knew that well enough. He pictured for a moment the long, cold streets he knew were outside, the rain that even now sprayed against the window of his seventh floor room. He knew how unforgiving the streets were down there. Sugar was here for some answers and he wanted to tell him to go to hell, wanted to tell the whole damn world to go to hell at that moment. Who was he kidding, trying to play these men? What if he never got satisfaction, never found the ending he had wanted for so long now? If this was the way his own supposed side worked here in Denver, then they were just as bad as the bikers. Perhaps he should have just taken a gun to his father years ago and been done with it...

Then amidst his dark thoughts he remembered a voice telling him to call him and piece of paper being shoved into his hand as he had watched a flash of concern cross through green, questioning eyes. Where that number was now, he could only guess. His clothes could be anywhere. Still, with that thought came the first touch of hope that he had felt since he had ridden into this town. Maybe there _was_ someone in this city that he could trust after all.


	9. Reap the Bad Seed

**Part 9. Reep the Bad Seed**

Chris returned the easy smile Orin Travis gave him as he and Benning entered his office.

"That was quick," Orin commented as he urged the men to sit, taking his own seat behind his large, dark wooden desk.

"There isn't much time to waste, this situation is escalating by the minute," Benning replied.

"Since the very second that boy set foot in town, I would say."

Chris flicked a glance at Will, not sure what Orin was thinking. He felt a surge of defensiveness. "He prevented one of my men from a severe beating last night... not to mention saved all of our asses when the shooting started."

Travis put up a hand to ward off Chris's protest. "I'm well aware of that fact, but it would have made it a hell of a lot easier, not to mention lawful, if he had of checked in with us first when he arrived. He's not authorised to be undercover, he shouldn't be anywhere near them. Hell he isn't even supposed to be in this city until next week."

Again Chris looked at Benning, deferring to him. The man had far greater skills at diplomacy than he did, but before Will could speak, there was a beep of the phone.

"Sir, Douglas Murphy has arrived."

Travis pressed a button on the keypad. "Please show him in, Martha." He looked at Chris and Will. "I asked Doug to join us, his knowledge would be of great benefit here and I'd like his input on this."

Chris nodded, he had no problem with Murphy. They waited a moment until Douglas entered the office. With quick greetings they retook their seats.

"I've already filled Doug in on the situation," Travis informed them.

They looked to Murphy, wanting to know what he thought. The large man shook his head slightly. "He doesn't do things by halves, that's for certain."

Chris grinned a little at that. "Would expect no less from a man on my team." He looked at Orin, challenging him to deny their unofficial request. As far as Chris was concerned, Tanner was already part of his team.

Travis shook his head. "I'm not saying that this isn't the way to go, I just want you men to understand the whole picture. There are repercussions all 'round should this get out and this isn't something I can do without putting it through my own superior. I want these bastards shut down too, but I wont lose my career this early in the piece, unless I know beyond all doubt that it's going to make a real difference." He looked at Will directly. 'You understand what you are asking me to do here?'

Will nodded. "I understand, Orin. But this boy's dug himself in harder than anyone has ever managed to do – harder than he can handle on his own. Back in Texas, he lost the support of his team when his Captain pulled him out. He had no choice but to go this alone, not if he didn't want to ruin everything he had worked for over the years."

Murphy took up the cause. "I know Lomely, he seems to be a good man, but he should have realised that Tanner couldn't cut his ties with the club just like that and move states. If he hadn't of made contact with them, they would have been straight after him for answers. A member can't just pick up and leave any time he feels like it. The whole thing had to have been a huge problem for the kid. Up until now, he's handled himself extraordinarily well, given the calibre of men he's been dealing with. Any way he plays it now, it'll be hard for him to get out."

"And we'd lose the best shot we've got at cracking this operation," Benning added. He was as committed as Chris. Both were men of action, not advocates of bureaucracy.

"The government sent him in to start this," Chris said. "They knew he was risking his life when he went in. A man's gotta finish what he starts, don't seem right to just pull the pin when someone's put so much on the line like this."

Orin turned his face from the intent eyes all upon him and looked out the window a moment, taking in the words of the three high-ranking men sitting around him. He believed in justice more than anything else. In a world of corruption and greed, justice and humanity were the only things that stood between evil men getting their way. He had not met Tanner, but he knew how committed he was, it was written all over every file that had his name associated with it and he had obviously impressed these men before him – and that was something to take very seriously. He looked back to the men gathered around him, there was still another matter to take care of.

"I'm willing to backdate the transfer and to make it permanent, if Tanner agrees, but not if we can't prove beyond a doubt that he had nothing to do with that woman."

"He couldn't have done anything even if he had wanted to. He was in no shape to do anything like that when he left and the doctor attending can attest to that," Chris put forward, not looking at Benning in the face of that lie. They had no way of ensuring that the leach of a doctor would attest to anything.

Travis looked at Benning who nodded.

"The doctor confirmed that he would not have recovered sufficiently from the shot he gave him earlier," Wilson added.

Travis shook his head. He would not be budged on this. "You get me proof of that, he's yours. I'll backdate the transfer so that he was acting under our authority, but not unless I have some admissable evidence here." He put up a hand at Chris's scowl. "It's the only way it's going to happen. And then I'll approve his permanent transfer to the ATF and your team if he agrees to it."

Chris knew it was a fair demand, but he hated the delay. He took a deep breath. Although he knew

beyond doubt that Tanner was innocent he had to respect that his gut instinct would not be enough for a man who had never even met him. Especially a man in Travis's position. Finally, he nodded once in agreement and made to leave.

"I'll be in touch soon with what you need."

Travis nodded and Benning looked up. "I'm going to stay here for a bit, we'll be ready to move on this at your word."

Chris held his look, it was up to him. Again he nodded and Murphy, too, rose to leave with him.

"Two of us will be better than one."

Chris met his eyes, seeing the offer of help and inclined his head in acceptance, appreciating the offer. He headed for the door.

"Chris," Travis stopped him. "The club haven't spoken out in his defence."

Chris's brow puckered as he looked at Benning. They had discussed the same point earlier at the hospital.

"Usually they would make some sort of statement by now," Murphy put in, turning from beside him. "Unless..."

"... They're letting him take the fall," Benning finished.

Chris's frown deepened. "I thought probates usually copped that deal?"

"They do," Murphy said and they remained silent for a moment, the implication settling on them.

Was the club setting Tanner up? And if so, what had he done? Did they blame him for what happened to the men out at the nightclub? Or did it run deeper than that.

Chris nodded to Travis. "I'll be in touch," he said again.

Outside the office Chris grabbed his phone from his pocket, thinking on the tail end of the conversation as he and Murphy headed for the elevator. There were things that needed to be done if he was going to get to the bottom of it all. He called his own office and asked for Buck.

"Chris, what's going on?"

"I'll fill you in when I get in to the office. I need you to get down to the hospital to Tanner's room - organise with the rest of the team to keep a watch on him. I don't want him out of our sight from the moment you get down there."

"You think he did it then?"

Chris frowned. "No, I don't. It's for his protection. There might be trouble from the club, or from the arresting officer's wanting to keep him quiet. Someone did a real number on him last night."

He had no idea of the scowl Buck wore at that, but it was projected through his silence. In Buck's mind, the Texan could be playing them all for fools and the one thought that played in his mind was the fact that the victim was just fourteen years old… if Tanner touched her then the son of a bitch had gotten all he deserved, a lot less in fact.

"You get that, Buck?" Chris asked, not hearing a response.

"Yeah, I got it. You spoken to him yet?"

"No. He was still out of it when we left but I'll be heading back in a while. What about the girl, any word from her?"

"Not yet. Josiah and Nathan have gone down to the hospital to check out the situation."

Chris nodded absently. "And the other bikers' arrested at the scene?"

Buck shrugged. "They've made a few busts for possession, some unlicensed firearms, nothing major."

"And what's their take on the situation with the girl? Have they said anything more about how she ended up there with him?"

"So far they all say they never saw her there. Looks like it's gonna be up to the lab results… and her statement once she wakes up. None of them seem in a hurry to back him up on this."

Chris entered the lift with Murphy and the doors closed. "That's what I thought. There's something not right about the way they're handling this... Any news from Ezra?"

"He had a visit from Vlahov. Says he's pretty sure the man wants to cut his ties with the Jokers."

Chris's brow rose at that. "He told Ezra that?"

"According to Ezra, he seemed sincere when he told him he didn't fully realise what he was buying into with them, that he hates organised crime… unless he's organising it himself, that is."

That was an interesting development. Vlahov would be a very powerful ally to have.

"I'll check in with him when I get back to the hospital. When's he due out?"

"Later today, they say his arm'll be fine with a little work. He keeps complainin' like he is though, I reckon they might just give him the boot a little earlier than that."

"Alright, I'll meet with you later. Let me know if Tanner wakes up, we need to sort out this mess with the girl. Clearing him is our priority right now."

Again Buck was scowling.

"Buck?" It was Chris's turn to frown. Buck had something he wanted to say, he knew his old friend too well.

"Aren't there agents down there already? Do you really need me to babysit this guy?"

There it was. Chris stopped in his tracks as he left the elevator, Murphy stopping with him, sensing his flash of anger.

"Spit it out, Buck." He'd just questioned his direct order and he wanted to know why, before he tore Buck to pieces.

If Buck had been anyone else, his ear would have already been on fire. He hadn't predicted a problem with his request, but Buck's heart was obviously ruling his brain, as it so often did.

Buck gave a wry laugh, "I have to explain it? The guy probably raped a girl, Chris, who wouldn't have a problem with that?"

Chris's scowl deepened, but having now realised that Buck's problem was unfounded he went back into action, nodding to Murphy that they should move on, now that he saw the argument for what it was. Buck often jumped the gun on calling situations, without waiting for all the facts to come in. In was annoying, but it was Buck. He had to be set straight, but it would have to wait for later.

"Buck, this isn't a request. Later you and I can talk about the pro's and con's of questioning my orders."

"Lemme guess, there's no pro's, right?" Buck asked with a grin.

Chris's lip rose in a familiar curl. It was the largest sign of a smile most people ever saw from him. "Stay in touch."

..

Buck looked at the phone a moment after he hung up, his grin descending once more into a frown. Chris's word meant a lot to him, but he had his own doubts. He looked up at JD and saw that his newest friend was already packing up his desk for the day and raised a brow in question.

JD shrugged, merely grinning. He didn't bother to justify his eavesdropping, or the fact that he was going with him. There was no way he was sitting inside the office on his own all day. He didn't sign up for that.

Buck slapped him on the back as they headed for the door. "Ready for some action, huh kid?"

JD shrugged again. "Beats sitting around here." They walked to the elevator and JD added. "Besides, if this guy's gonna be part of our team, I wanna meet him."

Buck scowled even deeper as JD reached out and pressed the button for the lift. "Don't bank on it, kid."

..

Chris looked at the photo of the young girl and then looked up through the window to the room she now sat in with a female officer and one of the department psychologists. A female doctor also sat in a chair close by the girl. They were in a private hospital in order to avoid the prying media.

A press release had been sent out, but there was only so long they could be held at bay from wanting more

information. The media wolves knew that a media release was only one side of a story that did not reveal the dirt behind the real scenario. It was their job to dig that up, if they could be bothered - and if it would be financially astute to do so – and being the first to do it was where the money was made. Otherwise, they would just print whatever they were directly fed, from whatever source proved the most economical.

"She looks nothing like this picture," Chris said in disgust to Josiah, Nathan and Murphy, who all stood around him.

Why did people do that he wondered. Give the police a photo that did not match the missing person's current identity at all?

"Ezra's working on pulling one from one of the surveillance cameras at the club," Nathan told him just as Chris's phone rang.

"You can't keep a good brother down," Josiah commented, reflecting on the fact that even laid up in the hospital Ezra was still at it.

"Larabee."

"Mr Larabee, I have information that I believe you will find to your liking."

"Speak of the devil. Spit it out, Ezra."

Ezra sighed. Somewhere, someone enjoyed his flair for the dramatic…

As an afterthought, Chris spoke again, not giving Ezra a chance to answer. "Where the hell are you? You sound like you're in traffic. Josiah was about to come over there to pick you up."

Ezra leant back in the taxi, not completely happy at having had to take the public mode of transport and trying to ignore the smell of stale food and cigarettes that seemed to shroud his every pore. It was raining, the sky a menacing grey, but he still had the window open enough to feel a hint of air on his face in the back seat. The spitting rain that reached him was refreshing against the contrast of foul air inside. He scowled yet again at the driver which, if the driver had of known him, he would have realised meant the Southerner was well jacked off. Ezra Standish rarely let emotion show on his handsome face, when it did, a man could usually be sure it was intentional.

"I'm heading over to the hospital now. I've just been over to the club to get the tapes myself."

"Standish, you're supposed to be two floors up at County, filling in your sick leave forms… what the fuck are you doing running around the city?!"

"I was discharged unexpectedly early…"

Chris's face showed amusement. Buck had been right about the southerner driving the staff crazy enough to release him prematurely. He gave up. "What did you see on the tapes?"

Ezra threw cash at the driver before the wheels had even stopped spinning and got out, managing not to bump his bandaged arm in its sling as he rushed through the rain to the shelter of the sliding glass doors of the hospital entrance, a folder clutched underneath his arm.

"I'll be right up, what floor are you on?"

"Tenth."

Chris hung up. "Ezra's coming up, says he's got good news." He looked at the girl again, still sleeping, her skin pale against the white sheet. `_Lets hope you've got some good news,' _he silently told Ezra.

"Lets find somewhere to talk," Murphy said, leaving the window and leading them toward the nurse's station.

They met up with Ezra as a nurse guided them to a waiting room, which was not being used on that quiet morning. Josiah slapped the southerner on his good arm.

"All better, brother?"

Ezra hiked a brow, "Hardly, Mr Sanchez. My arm is awash with pain and my brain is tormented with images of my heroic sacrifice to save Mr Jackson's life."

Nathan almost choked on the air he was drawing in. "Your heroic _what_?!"

The nurse ushered them into the waiting room, which had low, padded couches arranged around the large area. Nathan continued as they pulled a low coffee table into the centre of the chairs and got seated.

"I saved _your_ sorry hide, Standish. You were standing there with your mouth hanging open, about to get your fool ass shot again when I covered you." He continued to scowl when he heard a low rumble and glanced sideways to see Josia chuckling deep in his chest. Another glare at Ezra and he realised the man was baiting him and shook his head.

"What have you got, Ezra?" Chris asked, there was no time to waste.

Ezra opened his folder and removed two large envelopes, using his free hand to tip the contents onto the glass table. Several prints of grainy black and white shots spilled onto the table before them. Ezra lined them up in order.

"This shot here of Ms McBride was the first captured by the cameras. It was taken at 9.20pm. She was in the line outside for around forty minutes, not viewable until around this time as she got closer to the lit entrance."

"She looks like she's on another planet," Murphy commented, seeing the vacant expression on her face even

through the poor quality. "No wonder she hasn't woken up."

Chris's eyes narrowed at the photo. "I saw this girl. Are you sure this is her?" Chris remembered the girl in the line, staring vacantly ahead, her white top clinging to her wet skin as he and Buck stood on the steps a moment, contemplating their next move. Damn…

Ezra nodded. "Positive. She's been identified by the parents who requested a viewin' of the tapes earlier this

mornin'."

Chris shook his head and picked up the photo for a closer inspection. "She was in the rain when we went out the back to meet with you. Four bikes went past us and then two returned to the entrance. That would have been around…"

"9.45," Ezra finished, pulling aside another shot. "Here you can see she moved further up the line… and here is Buck and yourself leavin' the buildin', 9.44pm to be precise." He continued to pull photos aside as he filled in the story. "You can see most of the crowd turnin' to look out at the street here which, I'm assumin', is about the time that the four bikers rode past, then here you can see the headlights returnin' from the left…"

He grabbed the other envelope and Nathan took it from him, to open it onto the table and save him the effort of struggling with one hand. Chris's eyes fell on the photo that came out on top and he felt the first measure of success he'd had all day.

"There you can see Ms McBride clearly gettin' onto one of the bikes, her friend is standing on the curb, gesturing back inside. She doesn't look pleased." He looked up at Chris. "They must have been the two bikers that you saw go back to the entrance."

"She doesn't look like she's being forced against her will," Murphy commented, but Nathan gave him a dark look.

"That doesn't mean she wasn't later."

"I think the girl's friend has been telling a few lies," Josiah said, contemplating the photographs. "She stated her friend was unwilling to leave, but that is clearly untrue."

"And if she's lyin' about one thing..." Ezra let the thought hang.

Chris stood. "Well, she isn't helping her friend any, but at least we can prove it wasn't Tanner that took her in the first place."

Murphy also stood. "Now we just have to prove he didn't do anything with her later. I'm going to update Travis."

"And I'm going to get some answers," Chris said, heading for the door also.

Nathan spoke up. "Chris, you can't get to her, they won't let you talk to her until the doctors are satisfied she can handle it."

Chris didn't turn back. "There's other ways of getting information, Nathan." Then, calling over his shoulder, "Josiah, Nathan, get onto her friend, we need to get the real story out of her. Ezra, you done good. Now go home," he said shortly, but then turned at the last second. "You see Tanner at the hospital?"

Ezra nodded. "I took a turn past his room before I left. He was preocuppied with a rather burly lookin' man. From the glimpse I had of his gargantuan frame, I would speculate that it was the club enforcer."

Damn. The same guy that punished him back in Texas before he left. That couldn't be good. "Someone call Buck and make sure he's watching that room."

The three agents watched Chris leave before Ezra leant back in his chair, content he had done something positive that morning.

"What are you looking so smug about?" Nathan asked him, looking at the photos again.

Ezra's drawl was languid as he grinned. "I was just envisionin' the ceremony as they present me with my medal of honour for savin' your life."

Nathan scowled instantly, standing up and heading for the door. "Any time you want to thank me, Standish, you let me know."

Ezra waited until he was near the door before speaking with a sincere voice. "Nathan."

Nathan turned around and Ezra's throat actually stuck. To his surprise the medic smiled and shook his head. "Don't mention it, Ezra."

Josiah got up and hoisted Ezra up by his good arm. "Heading home brother?" he asked.

At this Ezra smiled. "Perhaps after I determine how my considerable skills can further aid in our investigation."

Josiah laughed. "Didn't think so."

..

Vin heard the door click and knew that Sugar had returned. He'd fallen asleep shortly after he'd discovered the man in his room earlier, physically unable to hold his eyes open no matter what he was dealing with.

"You're awake, well that's a start."

Vin watched him take the seat he had occupied earlier with an inward sigh, not moving his head to look, but following with his eyes in the dim light.

"I spoke to the boys back home, they'll all be rocking up in the next few days for the funeral... That ought to make things a bit warmer in this town."

Funeral… He hadn't even thought about that yet. It would no doubt be a massive affair. A huge procession of bikers out to farewell their fallen brothers. He'd missed the last one in Texas after the bust had gone down. He had mixed feelings about this news. On the one hand, it meant that a potential flare-up with the law was highly probable, with that many bikers converging on the town at once, but at the same time, he couldn't help but be relieved to hear that his own chapter would be heading into town. These were boys he knew well, having them here would relieve some of the tension he'd been getting from the Denver based men that treated him more like a hated relative than a valued brother.

No other state chapter was governed this way, of that he was certain. There was something decidely off-kilter about the way the Denver club was acting, almost like they were a separate, inpenetrable entity. It would definately help to have some familiar faces around. Still, the fact that Sugar had acknowledged the coldness made him realise the hostility wasn't just towards him.

"It ain't just me then."

"Nope, there's a definate chill ta this place, an' it ain't just the weather."

When a silence stretched, Vin knew Sugar wasn't going to say anything else about it.

"Where's my bike?" He asked then, thinking he hadn't seen it since before the Doc had taken him to the hospital. He hoped it wasn't sitting out in the rain.

Sugar smiled at one of the first questions from the younger man's mouth. Here he was, in serious shit, but his priorities were still right. "Sent it out to the club house on the back of a truck. I'm stayin' out there for the week. Thought you'd wanna come out there too when they let you out, seein's how you were gona shack up with Keg while you were here..."

Vin flinched at that and Sugar saw the pain the words brought. He was grieving for his old friend, he thought. He did not know of the guilt Vin was feeling.

Vin turned his head and moved his wrist, the metal bracelet making a noise as it pulled against the lowered frame and he turned to look at it for a moment. The scenario was all too familiar to him. He shifted his gaze to his other arm, seeing before feeling the IV line that was still running into his system, effectively imobilising his free arm. "You think they're gonna let me out for the funeral with my rap sheet?"

Sugar shook his head. "You won't take the fall for this."

His voice was so certain that Vin looked at him sharply. There was a hell of a lot going on here that he didn't know about - and he wanted to know what it was.

"Fall for _what_, exactly? I don't remember much 'cept there bein' a girl near me and cops rushin' in an' shoutin' an' throwin' punches... what the fuck happened?" He only remembered the girl being carried out and knew what the cops had accused him of as they had read him his rights, one punch at a time. He'd woken up, cuffed to the bed and still no closer to understanding what had gone on.

Sugar was scowling. "I was hopin' you could tell me." He studied Vin's confused, frustrated expression. "That girl you were with was reported missin'. Her father went nuts, contacted the media tryin'a find her when the local cops didn't turn up anythin' fast enough for him. They started blamin' the club for kiddnappin' her... they're lookin' fer a scape goat..."

Vin's eyes narrowed. "An' that's _me_?" He shook his head, trying again to remember what the hell had happened after he'd left the bar with the Doc. "Fuck..." he swore softly, coming up blank and then looking up at Sugar. "I's in no shape fer anythin' other than sleep when I went with Doc..." A thought occured to him then. "Doc was with me, what's he sayin' happened?"

But Sugar just shook his head. "That he dropped you at the party after the hospital, nothin' else."

"An' how'd the cops find out where she was?"

Sugar's face looked dangerous. "I don't know that yet either."

Vin was angry, this was looking just like the bust back in Texas, only then he had known he was going to have to take the fall. This time, someone was forcing it on him. Had the club tipped off the cops in order to frame him? Had Jake not bought his story when he'd returned..? Jesus, that had to be it.

"What the fuck were you thinkin' comin' out here on your own?"

The question took Vin completely by surprise. In fact, when he thought about it, he couldn't remember ever

exchanging this many words with the man in one sitting, unless it was about fighting. He had to know what was going on, so he took a chance.

"If yer gonna pin this on me, I deserve ta know why," he said straight, half expecting one of the man's big arms to come swinging at him for being so direct. "I've done my time fer the club, this ain't my wrap."

Vin watched Sugar closely. There was definate anger in his roughened face, but it wasn't directed at him. His honest response surprised Vin. "I don't know what the hell's goin' on here, but it ain't comin' from the top." He made a point of looking at Vin's beaten face. "Looks like the chapter here ain't behavin' too brotherly. Either that or they're short on probates and are usin' any Texan handy as the next best thing."

"I feel like a fuckin' outsider here. Thought we's all s'posed to be part'a the same thing."

"Eddie's comin' up himself, he'll sort these boys out when he gets here."

Vin was surprised to hear that the club's overall president for over twenty years was making the trip. He rarely left Texas any more, partly due to the law not allowing him to travel interstate. There was more going on than Vin's troubles. They had obviously been watching the Denver chapter for a while, maybe finally deciding they had gone too far.

"This ain't just about me..."

He knew then he'd pushed too far into affairs that were beyond his rank in the club when Sugar's scowl deepened, and this time it _was_ for him.

"You won't go down for this," he told him again. "They need a scapegoat we'll send in one of our own probates if we have to, it won't be you this time."

Again there was a silence and Vin knew that the topic of the Denver chapter was closed. He indicated his chained arm. "So this'll be comin' off soon?" It was bothering him, more than he would ever admit.

Sugar gave him a strange look, strange because Vin actually thought he saw understanding there, but realised he had to be seeing things. This man was incapable of such feelings. He watched as he pushed his large, stocky frame up. "Don't worry about it, it'll be taken care of. Charlie's gonna turn up in a bit, he rode up with me, he'll be 'round if ya need anythin' 'til I get back. Might be a while." He didn't elaborate.

Vin knew Charlie, a huge man with a giant sense of humour but an equally big mouth. No secret was safe from him and he seemed to know everything that was going on at once, which could come in handy to a man like Vin. He was glad to know he was around.

He watched Sugar pause, he wasn't heading out just yet, though. His eye's narrowed as the large man slowly leant on the wall behind him, his arms folded across his giant chest and his keen blue-grey eyes looking intently at him, like a wall of stone.

"So this is the part when you tell me what the fuck happened out there at the club."

Vin leant his head back and looked at the roof, knowing he should make eye contact, but too tired to care. He sighed and resigned himself to the questioning. Here we go again, he thought wearily. He was so damn tired… tired of the whole game. He was sick of having to pander to a bunch of low-lives when all he really wanted to do was take them all down in one violent swoop... but that wasn't how the game was played.

..

A few hours later Buck and JD exited the elevator and met with a wall of solid muscle, looking like the epitome of 'bad-ass biker' himself, clad in a black leather vest over a short sleeve, black t-shirt. A colourful array of tattoo's covered both massive arms, down to the rings, which adorned each oversized finger. The colourful body artwork extended up to cover the entire area of his closely shaved head, no one clear picture decipherable amongst the overlapping ink, which linked together like a graffiti explosion. With a smile of bared teeth, the biker stepped aside to let them pass and Buck had to look up to see the man's mocking grin as they walked by.

Barely had the doors closed behind the man when JD shook his head. "Did you see the size of that guy?! He should be a wrestler, I ain't never seen a man that big and wide up close."

Buck just grinned, "See him flinch? The guy was scared'a me."

JD snorted but Buck looked back toward the elevator, his senses on alert. Where there was one...

They followed the line of agents and uniformed police guarding the floor, identifying themselves until they came to a doorway and went inside the NTF agent's room, adjusting their eyes to the lowered lighting. JD's pupils, however, only grew as he took everything in; studying every detail of the man on the bed's face. He had heard so much in one morning and his curiosity was sky high. He loved motorbikes, had had his own for nearly three months now, although it wasn't running. He had always been fascinated with bikers and this was the closest he had ever come to one… well, not that Tanner _was_ one, exactly… but he was the closest he'd come yet, except the guy at the elevator…

_"JD."_

JD looked at Buck and realised his thoughts had run wild.

"Sit here for a while, I'm going to get something to eat."

JD looked at him in disbelief. "You just ate."

Buck gave him a hard look and scowled again at the bed. The `prisoner' was locked to the frame and seeing that, he knew JD would be alright. He needed to get some air. There was one crime more than any other that he could not abide, could not deal with rationally - the abuse of a woman.

"Just stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

JD watched him leave and once again the room was quiet. He could not help but step closer to peer at the man in the bed, taking in the bruises on his face and the deep cut above his eye. He was so much younger than he had thought he would be – and cleaner too! Hell, what had he expected, him to be lying there in his black riding clothes, covered in grease and dirt? Shaking his head at his own thoughts, he looked at the handcuff and the slack, bandaged wrist encased inside, lean fingers relaxed against the crisp sheet.

"Takin' it all in, kid?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Jesus Christ! You scared the hell outta me!"

Vin chuckled slightly, despite the ache that ran through his side, which had started to hurt when he had begun his long monologue to Sugar only ten minutes prior. He'd closed his eyes and heard the door open again and used the moment it had taken the two men to adjust to the light to peer at them through semi-closed lids. He'd quickly determined it was the ATF agent from the night before. Wilmington, he thought his name was. Listening, he had heard the anger in his tone, but was not sure what it was directed at. For the first time it occurred to him that the agents from the night before would be getting all kinds of mixed information about his arrest. What had they concluded? Would they think him guilty and assume the worst?

As Wilmington had left Vin had then felt the scrutiny of the young, curious man now looking down at him with

wide, eager eyes. If he was an agent, he wasn't one long in the field, judging by the glimpse he'd had of a young face and the scrappy covering of a new beard, not yet filled in.

"You're awake?" JD squeaked, embarrassed to have been caught ogling.

"I'm thinkin' so."

JD noted the relaxed face, through the mottled bruises and felt himself relax. There was something about the slow delivery of the Texan's drawl that helped put him at ease.

"I gotta watch your room for a while."

Vin nodded, amusement in his tired blue eyes. "And you are…?"

"Oh," he stepped forward. "JD Dunne, Agent JD Dunne, of the ATF."

Vin nodded again. "Pleased ta meet ya, Agent JD Dunne. I'd shake yer hand, but…" he lifted the wrist closest to JD and again the metal band jangled on the bed frame.

JD looked at the hand again and then the silence stretched. The undercover agent was looking at him intently and it was unnerving him. Why didn't he say something?

Vin was keeping one eye on the door. A uniformed cop had just poked his head in behind JD's back so that the kid had missed it. The man had looked like he was on a mission and Vin sensed trouble. Having an ATF agent visiting him was not good. His club wouldn't like it and the boys in uniform outside sure wouldn't like it, not after their effort in arresting him earlier that had come with a warning to keep his mouth shut.

"You don't have ta stay in here," Vin told him. "You can wait outside."

JD looked at the door and then pulled out a chair to get settled in. "Can't do that. Buck – ah, Agent Wilmington, wants me to stay in here, under orders from the Captain."

Larabee… Was he watching his back? What was he thinking, now that he was being held on charges of rape? Surely he would know that he couldn't have done it in the shape he was in last night. Still, why should he assume anyone would think the better of him? He considered getting a message to Larabee through his young agent, but there were too many ears around right then listening in.

The silence stretched again and then JD blurted. "I ride a bike, too."

Vin smiled, he couldn't help it. The kid was nervous as hell but curious as a cub. "That so…" He paused, the kid wanted to go on. All he had to do was stay silent and JD would shut the hell up. Yet, something had him encouraging him anyway. "Whadaya ride?"

"A Suzuki, she's a beauty, an SV 650, only got her a few months back but she runs like a dream. Well, least she did till she broke down last month and I can't get her going again. She's been in the shop a while. Lucky I moved in with Buck and he gives me a lift to work most days. I don't know if I'll have the money to pick it up once its finished at the shop. They mostly fix Harley's there, but it was close enough to wheel it over to without having to load it up on Buck's truck."

"Might wanna check up an' get a tally. Some'a those shops can rip ya off if ya let `em. Make sure they tell ya what they're gonna do first `fore they go an' do it."

JD nodded. "I didn't even get to take it on a nice long run, always wanted to do that. You know, just ride out for hours on a nice clear day?"

Vin grinned. Now _that_ he could understand, particularly given the predicament he was currently in. He was as far from freedom as a person could get right then. "Ain't nothin' like it in the world. Gettin' that wind on yer face, seein' the open road, all yer thoughts meltin' away…"

He stopped and JD thought for a minute he'd drifted to sleep when his eyes didn't open for a second. He studied the lean face again. He liked Vin Tanner, instantly. There was no arrogance or attitude in his voice as he talked to him, offering advice. It was as if he were a friend, chatting, albeit he had done most of the chatting himself.

The door opening drew their attention and they looked up to see a uniformed officer enter, followed by a grey haired, older man. Vin's face grew hard as he recognised the police Chief.

"We would like a word with the prisoner alone," the Chief informed JD.

JD's eyes swerved to Vin's. For some reason, he respected this man and trusted his judgement. He was, after all, going to be on their team. The Texan nodded ever so slightly and he saw the message to go, yet he had his orders.

"I'm sorry, I'm ordered to stay in the room."

Levitz frowned and toyed with the elastic band he held in his hand. "By whom?"

"Captain Larabee, ATF."

Using pure arrogance, the Chief snarled. "You tell your Captain that my authority outweighs his here and if he wants to challenge me on that, he can take it up with me himself, not get his little yap dog to stand in for him."

JD was angered by the words, but flustered and not sure what to do. After all, this was the Police Chief, he had no reason to disobey him, did he? But there was a tension in the room that had begun with his arrival and the atmosphere did not seem to bode well for Vin. JD was beginning accept that the police really _had_ done this to him and landed him in here, where he had not previously been sure what to think. He needed to get Buck, he'd know what to do. He met Vin's eyes again.

"See ya soon, Agent Dunne." He was telling him to go.

As JD left, Vin felt his stomach knot, despite himself. The uniformed officer closed the door as the Chief approached and Vin made sure his face remained completely impassive.

"Ya come ta practice some more'a that law ya preach?"

Levitz smiled a cold smile as he pocketed the elastic band.

"The girl might have stated you didn't do anything, but that doesn't mean you weren't an accomplice. You bastards are all alike, taking the law into your own hands, making up your own rules."

Vin heard the first sentence and his mind began to whirl. _He was off the hook?_ It must have just happened and the Chief had come straight here. Suddenly he thought of Sugar as he'd sworn to him earlier that he wouldn't take the fall for the girl and he began to get a sick feeling. What had Sugar done? But right then, he put on a grin for the corrupt Chief. "Well well... guess ya came ta make yer apology then."

The Chief's eyes were hard, full of menace. "You smart-mouthed little prick. It doesn't change the fact that she was assaulted."

Vin's own eyes iced over. "Not by me she wasn't."

"You would have joined in if you could have. You're probably pissed off that you missed the fun."

So Levitz _did_ know that he was innocent. He felt anger surge, but knew that would get him nowhere. He realised words were useless with this man. "Guess ya have ta release me now..." he already knew that wasn't why the man was here.

The Chief grinned again, reminded of his purpose. He pulled a key from his pocket and toyed with it. "You got a lot of attention aimed at you, boy. Seems a lot of people are interested in you." He stared down into Vin's face, his eyes threatening. "I don't want to hear that you tried to turn that to your advantage, by making up stories that aren't true - like false tales of police brutality."

Son of a bitch. He was here trying to cover his own ass, not wanting him to tell anyone what they had done to him now that he realised he wasn't going to get busted for the girl. Again, his anger got the better of him.

"Reckon ya might wanna go check yer manual on how ta arrest a man right… Think there might even be this bit `bout 'innocent `til proven guilty'. Ya mighta skipped that part while's you were beatin' on children or somethin' at the academy, drownin' puppies, that kinda thing."

The Chief used one of his hands to take Vin's wrist in his own, fingering the restraint. "You could be right."

With that he jerked Vin's wrist back so sharply that the Texan growled in the sudden onslaught of pain to the already ravaged skin.

"Then again, I've been around long enough to know that with animals like you, there's only one way to get the message through. There's only one language that you understand."

Once more his wrist was snapped back at an angle, the torn flesh beneath the bandage tearing anew as it protested against the restraint of hard metal and the sudden stretching of its limit against the bed frame.

On a hiss of breath, his chest holding his pain at bay with protest, Vin glared at the greying man. "Ya seem ta speak that language pretty easy. Seems not all the bad seeds grow on the wrong side `a the law."

The Chief almost snarled. "I live to keep decent folk safe from thugs like you."

Vin's look spat vengeance, even as he shifted and felt the wound to his side protest. His voice was raw. "An' who keeps `em safe from _you_?"

**As the Chief leaned forward, his face dark with anger, Vin knew he wasn't done, that he should not have pushed the man. Still, as he felt the weight of the man's hand leaning on his battered chest, he made a promise. His list for retribution had just grown by one.**


	10. When The Dealing's Done

**Part 10. When The Dealing's Done**

_This will be an uncertain time for us my love_

_I can hear the echo of your voice in my head_

_I can see your face there in my hands my love_

_I have been blessed by your grace and care_

_There's a place for us sitting here waiting for the sun_

_And it calls me back into the safe arms that I know_

…_Now we're waiting for the sun_

_**From 'Waiting for the Sun', by Powderfinger**_

Chris stared at the traffic light where he was stopped without seeing it, his mind way ahead of the slow and

frustrating drive back over to the County Hospital. The intermittent swipe of the wiper blades was almost hypnotic as he waited for the signal to change. Beyond the persistent water that seemed to defy gravity as it drizzled in crazed, zig-zagging angles across his windscreen, there was a break in the clouds, which was allowing a runaway beam of sunlight to cut a path down through the bleak sky. It danced down across a tall building to his right and highlighted a group of people, clustered under umbrellas on the street, as they quickly dashed to cross the intersection.

Carefully attired city workers were rushing through another day, none having the luxury of enjoying that solitary ray of light as he was at that moment, seeing it blur and focus through each swipe of the smooth blades. Through his sightless gaze, a peculiar movement caught his eye and he turned his head slightly to see a woman had stumbled as she'd run across the slippery walkway. To his surprise, he saw her face come up, as if somehow sensing his observation. Through another swish of the glass, as if a lens was sharpened before his vision, he saw pale, flushed skin framed in a light cascade of auburn hair, the vision quickly absorbed by his now hawkishly observant eyes.

Taking in every detail, he found himself leaning forward without conscious thought, for suddenly he found that he did not want to lose that vision. Yet as the rain again gathered on the glass before him, the image that was reflected in the green depths of his eyes was that of another woman; One with lighter hair, a laughing smile… Before yet another violent swipe over the glass sent the short-lived water scattering apart once more and allowed reality to intrude rudely, accompanied with the blaring of a horn from behind him.

The loud noise was reinforced by an impatient shout and he flicked his eyes back to the now green light, shaking off the melancholy, which had pervaded his thoughts so swiftly. That was all it took; one image, one sound, one scent of perfume - triggers all for the dark pain to reel him into its clutches once again, forever at its mercy it seemed. His foot came down on the accelerator and the back end of the classic Mustang slid sideways, purposefully spinning too rapidly for traction on the oil and rain-slick ground. The car responded instantly to the heavy foot of the driver, the power of its engine unleashed in the moment of anguish.

Chris blinked once as he sailed through the lights, trying to clear the persistent water from his vision, his own eyes fighting against the ever-present downpour that threatened from within to drown him, should he allow it even a moment's reign. _Sweet God, he missed her still…_

It took a few moments as he drove on to register the sound of his cell phone ringing, the shrill noise finally

penetrating the thick cloud of hopelessness that had filled the space around him as he grabbed it off the seat. His voice could not hide the raw emotion he was feeling as he left the beam of sunlight well behind for a more deserving soul to embrace.

"Larabee."

"Chris?"

There was concern in Josiah's voice in response to the rough greeting.

"Josiah, what do you know?"

Josiah heard the command to leave him be and knew Chris well enough to know not to push him. "Good news."

Chris saw the hospital coming up ahead and swung the car into the drive entrance with one hand, wincing as the movement pulled at the tear in his skin, where the bullet had grazed his arm the night before. "Could use some."

"The lab still holding back the results?"

His lip curled in anger. In spite of all of the technology afforded to modern man, the lab had been unable to give him the answers they needed and he'd wasted his time pushing them. He had gotten the distinct impression that the lab technician was holding out on him and it had pissed him off to no end. He'd left, promising the beady-eyed man in the lab coat that he'd be back to feed him the results personally if he found out he wasn't being level with him.

"Whatever they've found, they're not telling me. Under who's authority they've made that decision is what I plan to find out. Even the forensics' guys are holding back." He eyed a free space up ahead and told Josiah to hang on while he dropped the phone onto the seat to down change gears and navigate the coupe in head first with practised ease.

"You think the local police are keeping them quiet?" Josiah asked when Chris again picked up the phone. The ex-preacher was frowning at that. The more he was hearing, the more he was not liking the scenario being painted of the local police department.

"Don't know Josiah, but something's not right here. First Tanner turns up beaten all to hell and now we can't get the real story out of anyone involved. Someone had better start talking soon."

"Maybe this will help. The girl's friend retracted her former statement an hour ago. She's now stating that her friend, McBride, willingly got on the motorcycle with the bikers. In fact, she admitted that they met some of the men a few nights before. She also said that McBride had been seeking them out, that she'd always thought that they were `cool', as she put it."

Chris paused with his hand on the door, his other hand holding the phone tight. "Why would she change her story like that?" _Had somebody gotten to her?_

"I have no idea."

"Is she willing to identify the men McBride left with that night?"

"She isn't too happy about it, but she'll do it."

Chris stretched his lean frame from the car. Finally, some good news. It didn't omit the fact that it was Vin she was found with, unconscious, but it did serve to discredit her, as tough as that seemed.

"What about McBride, has she woken up yet? Now that we can rule out kidnapping, do we know for a fact whether she was actually assaulted?"

"We've been trying to get to her, but the doctors have kept us away. Something strange though - Nathan said he just saw Chief Levitz coming out of her room, talking with a doctor."

Chris walked on, glaring at nothing in particular. Levitz had been the first on the scene at the hotel. "How the hell did he get in there? Doesn't this guy have paperwork or something?" It was strange behaviour for a Chief of Police.

Josiah shrugged. "I don't know. No-one was supposed to have access to the patient until the doctors cleared it, which they still officially haven't."

"There's something wrong here, Josiah. Find out what Levitz knows and find out now. He's running this town like it's his own private country and he's been doing it for a long time." Another thought occurred to him. "And see if you can find out where he went."

"I'm on it. Are you heading back here?"

"I'm at County now meeting up with Buck, I'll wait for your call."

"Alright, I'll be in touch as soon as I find something out."

Chris hung up and entered the building, pocketing his phone as he headed straight for the stairwell, not bothering to wait for the elevator. Something was wrong with the law in this city, but now that he was a part of it, he wasn't about to let it go on.

..

Vin felt the pressure weighing on his chest and finally his ingrained sense of calm snapped. Whatever the

consequences, he wasn't going to lay there and be beaten again by this power-hungry bastard, not while he was still breathing enough to fight back. His free arm came up and he felt the needle of his IV shift within his skin as he put a hand up to Levitz's throat to ward off his attack.

"You son of a bitch," the Chief growled, not expecting his victim to fight back and moving one of his own hands up to pry Vin's fingers loose as he pushed down harder still on his chest.

Vin growled louder this time in renewed pain and felt his fingers being pulled back strongly from Levitz's throat. He didn't have the strength to fight him, but knowing that made him fight all the harder still. As his free hand was pinned down, he had nothing left to defend himself with and Levitz shifted his crushing weight from his chest higher up to his neck, applying instant and unyielding pressure to his already damaged throat.

"You think you have the power to win against me? You're just one more criminal to get off the streets. I'll lock you away like you should be, you can count on that."

Vin continued to fight the hand at his throat as Levitz went on. "You bastards think you're invincible because you stick together, but where are your friends now? They threw you to me like a piece of meat... Get you alone and you're all weak. You got no friends in this city son, best you just ride away. You say anything about what happened and I'll make sure you don't make the next sunrise, you understand me?"

Vin still struggled to get his hand free, to pry the unyielding fingers from his throat, but every move sent pain through his chest and down to his bullet-torn side. His head was getting light, the room seeming to dim even more as he listened to the words being thrown at him from the bitter man. The knowledge that the club had turned him in coming from this man was a shock.

Still, he grated out in a rough voice, "Wanna try this – when I ain't - tied down?"

Levitz heard the strangled words and his eyes narrowed to Vin's face. Vin felt the pressure increase on his throat and realised that he was about to lose the battle to stay conscious.

"You're new to this town, so I'll give you this last warning. You're club doesn't want you here. I've read your file and _I_ don't want you here. You stay and I will make you're life a living hell."

Vin almost smiled through his pain, silently dismissing the useless threat. Hell held no fear for him - he'd been visiting there for years. If only they knew the truth about who he was, Levitz would probably follow through and just snap his neck then and there.

..

Chris came up out of the stairwell minutes later and immediately ran into an anxious JD, who was pulling along a scowling Buck.

JD was surprised but relieved to see his Captain. He'd had a hard time convincing Buck to come back to the floor with him when he'd found him in the cafeteria. He looked up the hall towards the uniformed officer standing outside Vin's closed door and then back at the demand for an explanation on Chris's face. Buck took in the closed expression of his oldest friend and sensed impatience as JD spoke.

"The Police Chief is in there with him. He came in and ordered me to leave the room –"

Chris's face was still hard, all the more unnerving in its deceptive calm. He switched his eyes to Buck and Buck realised he'd been mistaken. Not just impatience, there was definite anger there. Chris's voice was always controlled, but Buck heard the threat in his tone. "I'm going to find out what the hell is going on in there, then you and I are going to talk."

JD watched the equally hard looks exchanged across the short space and swallowed. What the hell was going on here? One thing he knew, he was glad that Larabee's anger was directed at Buck, not himself.

Without a backward glance, Larabee stormed off to the closed room and was stopped by the officer at the door.

"I can't let you in here, Sir."

Chris took out his wallet and flipped it open in the officer's face. "Larabee, ATF. Move, before you realise what you've gotten yourself into."

Young and cowered by the sheer force radiating from the ATF Agent, Officer Newton stood his ground none the less. After all, an angry Levitz was no picnic either.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I have orders to let no-one enter."

Chris didn't bother to keep his voice low as he told the Officer what he could do with his orders as he shoved past him.

..

Just as Vin began to think that Levitz did not have enough control to stop what he was doing, he heard a raised voice from the door before it swung open a second later. Instantly the pressure was lifted from his throat as Levitz moved quickly back and away from the bed, consciously blocking him from view from whoever had entered.

He panted in exertion, his breathing strained as he eyed Levitz wearily, yet defiantly, not sure what, or who, had caused him to back off so suddenly as he struggled to see past him. Blinking his blurred vision back into focus, he followed the retreating man with cold, steady eyes, seeing the warning being given to him as he watched him turn toward the door, presenting him with his back. He brought his free hand up to rub at the burning flesh around his neck as he waited, taking the moment's respite to fill his lungs and prepare himself for the next battle.

..

Chris stood in the open doorway of Vin Tanners room and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He narrowed his eyes at the police Chief, who had turned to face him, panting slightly as if winded.

"Ah, Captain Larabee. You're just in time, the prisoner was just foolishly trying to attack me..."

Chris was fully aware that the Chief had intentionally positioned himself to block the view to the bed. His soft words were mocking. "Attack you?"

The Chief tried to shrug it off and gave a slight smile. "My own fault, I'm afraid I got too close. You have to watch these men every second you're in the same room, they'll stab you right in the back if you give them half a chance." He tried to change tack, unprepared for the intense scrutiny Larabee was giving him. "I had wondered when we might meet in person."

Chris flicked a glance at the hand that was suddenly proffered, eyeing it a moment before putting out his own and looking to the grey, closely set eyes as they greeted each other in the official manner of the western world. Levitz was trying to unbalance him. He might as well have tried to upend a battleship by rocking it.

"Chief Levitz." Merely a stated fact, there was no warmth there. Chris didn't like the man. It wasn't a snap judgement. He just felt, in every pore of his skin as their palms made contact, that he was not to be trusted. He retracted his hand a mite too early for what was considered politely acceptable and hooked a thumb through his belt, one hip angled slightly forward and looking for all the world like a gunfighter ready to act. "What exactly brings you here?"

Levitz frowned, not liking Larabee's attitude and let his own hand drop, aware he'd been slighted, though only just.

He waved a hand at the bed behind him. "I was just about to let the prisoner know that he is being cleared of the charges made against him. I came to release him... and in reward he went for my throat like a wild animal."

He rubbed his neck for emphasis and Chris could indeed see the redness beneath his pale hand, but his mind was caught on the words he had spoken. _Released_? His brow went up in response and he looked back at Buck. This was news to him and he'd been working on it all morning. It confirmed that his investigation had indeed been hampered - and under this man's order.

Vin listened to the exchange, still not able to see past the large man's frame to who he knew now was Larabee. He let a dry chuckle slip through his raw throat and spoke for the first time since Chris had entered. "Seems ta me, ya got things all back ta front there, _Chief_…"

Chris waited no longer, stepping around the scowling Levitz and finally seeing Vin sitting up as best he could on the bed. Buck and JD followed his lead and moved further into the room, also seeing what Chris saw. Vin's neck was a burning red beneath his pale fingers and there was blood seeping through the bandage of his restrained wrist. He was clearly in pain and breathing hard – and his eyes could only be described as dangerous, despite the low laugh he had delivered with his mocking tone. They had walked into something unpleasant, that much was obvious.

Chris met Vin's blue glint and his face darkened as he took in the shallow breathing of his latest recruit. At that moment, he didn't know who was more pissed off, but he was the one standing, so he would deal with Levitz.

He listened as the tall man turned on Vin in response to his words.

"You shut your mouth, no-one's talking to you." He glanced at Larabee. "I was about to take that cuff off him when you entered. Maybe that wasn't the wisest decision, he's clearly out of control."

"Was that gonna happen before of after ya choked the life outta me?"

The angled, sharp face grew venomous and Vin automatically braced himself for another attack. He could see it was hard for the older man to keep a hold of his anger as he purposefully taunted him, but his own anger was crawling along the surface of his skin. He was a heartbeat away from reaching out and striking the man any way he could. First the bastard had come in, threatening him violently, and then he puts on a victimised act for Larabee. He had to think that this was something the man had gotten away with in the past. Just how many people had Levitz abused when he thought there was no-one around to judge him? Clearly, he realised, the Chief had never considered that a man might blatantly ignore his open threats. To Levitz,

anyone defying his warnings was committing suicide, yet little did he know who this prisoner really was. This time, he'd threatened the wrong man. He was messing with a government agent and only that alone kept Vin from losing his cool right then and there. The knowledge that as sure as the man was a corrupt, self-serving bastard, he was going to see that he was taken far away from the position of power he was bent on abusing, but that meant that for now, he had to play the game. He just hoped Larabee was thinking in kind.

"Don't sass me you worthless prick. You might be off the hook, but it's only a matter of time before you slip up for good. Your kind always does," he added with derision.

Vin's eyes became so hard that JD actually held his breath, the promise of vengeance strikingly clear in their icy depths. "An' what kind's worse than one that takes ta pickin' on a defenceless man? Or the kind that pretends they're somethin' they got no right ta be?"

Chris studied the interchange between the men, interested in seeing how the Chief would react. He was livid, that much was obvious and he was ready to intervene, physically if need be, but he was giving the Chief his rope. It was important that Vin's cover remain intact.

Not disappointing the captain beside him, Levitz practically snarled as he stepped further forward to the Texan's side. He had warned this man only minutes before what he'd do if he crossed him, yet he seemed bent on defying him, as if he had nothing to fear. This realisation should have given him pause, yet his arrogance was ruling his actions. "You arrogant son of a –"

Chris had seen enough and stepped forward to stop the advance. As he moved he took the key that Levitz had yet to make use of, still held in the older man's fingers. "I'll think I'll take it from here." He moved and unlocked the restraint quickly, putting it on the bedside table as Vin moved his hand up to a different position, wincing with the pain of new movement to a long immobile limb. "Agent Dunne, get a nurse to come in here."

Levitz turned on Chris, both angered and incredulous. "You overstep yourself, Captain."

Chris let amusement touch his eyes, infuriating Levitz. He leant back against the wall by the bed, arms folded now across his chest, giving the man his lead while JD left the room. "How so, Chief?"

A creeping flush of red reached the older man's neck, a clear sign his rage was threatening to overcome his control as he snarled at the ATF upstart. "Who the hell do you think you are? I've been heading up this town longer than you've been allowed to drive. You don't understand how it works here, boy."

The corner of Chris's mouth kicked up higher. "I think I'm beginning to get a fair idea."

Outraged even further, Levitz leaned towards Chris's apparently casual pose, closing the remaining distance

between them until he was right in his face, his voice a snarled threat.

"You're new to this town, Larabee, and you're new to your post, but I won't tolerate you disrespecting my position."

"And what exactly _is_ your position, Levitz?" He purposely left off his title in kind. "Since when does a police Chief make personal bedside calls? Or raid hotel rooms for that matter?"

Narrowed eyes drew even further together as Levitz reassessed this man he knew by reputation only. He knew Larabee's record with the Marshall's Office, had even considered that he might be a man of his own standing, until now. He was now an enemy, not one he would have chosen to make, but an enemy all the same.

"Don't push me Larabee. You're way over your head here."

It was Vin's turn to watch the exchange with interest. If not before, Larabee now had his complete respect. He had sized the Chief up to a tee and more than that, was not afraid to act on his findings. This was a man who was straight down the line, a trait which Vin admired greatly. He looked away for a moment to find Buck not taking his eyes off Chris's back. He was covering his leader without fault. Whatever else Wilmington was, he was loyal.

Having given his warning, the Chief made to push past Larabee and leave and for a moment, Vin thought the

Captain was going to let him. He was glad when he saw Larabee's arm shoot out to stop him, slamming a hand onto the bedside table and stepping forward surprisingly fast, effectively blocking the Chief's path to the door. He could not see that Levitz's momentary shock had quickly turned to anger as he looked from the arm barring his exit to the cold green gaze directed toward him, however he did see Larabee's expression, and it bore what he was coming to recognise as unveiled disdain. It was as if Levitz were nothing more than an irritation to him, yet there was now definite menace packaged with the clear warning that was shooting from his steady eyes. The room was hushed.

"Chief," Chris began, his tone low, his eyes reinforcing every word as the angry man stared back at him. "I've dealt with men like you before. Men who've been so long in one place, they think they can do whatever they want and get away with it. But I'm here now and I'm not going to go away. Anything to do with the outlaw clubs in this city is now my concern, mine and the DEA's." Seeing Levitz about to speak he cut him off quickly. "I was going to ask for your full cooperation on this…" his lip curled even more, correctly reading the fury building in the affronted man as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, "but now I think I'll settle for you staying the hell out of my way." The last words went up like a challenge, daring Levitz to protest.

Levitz growled, fully aware of the other men in the room. "You have no idea what you're dealing with here, Larabee." He nodded towards the bed. "You think you can handle these criminals with kid gloves, you're wrong, they'll walk all over you. You can't let them get any edge on you, they see a weakness they'll be all over you." Levitz shook his head, as if clearing away his shrouding anger, and then a mocking smile touched his face as he shook his head. He spoke his next words prophetically, as if Chris's dire fate was now out of his hands. "You're going to end up on the wrong end of a barrel, Larabee. These men will eat you alive."

Chris took his hand away and stepped back a little, signalling that Levitz should leave. "Just stay out of my way."

With a hard glare, Levitz mounted his own rage and shouldered past him, even though there was plenty enough room to get by. Chris took the shove solidly and held his footing, letting him leave. He knew there would be repercussions from his actions, but he was firm in the knowledge that he could not back down to a man like that. There were territorial wars on both sides of the law, it wasn't the first time he'd come across it and he was positive it would not be his last.

Levitz turned at the door just as it opened, revealing a nurse entering, with JD trailing in behind her. He flicked a derisive glance around the room to the men staring at him silently. "Believe me, when you go down, I don't want to be anywhere near you. Men like you tend to bring down everybody around them, sooner or later."

With that revelation the Chief stormed from the room, only JD seeing the flicker of emotion that chased across Larabee's face as he watched the Chief leave the doorway. The thrown words had cut him harder than he was prepared to face. Behind him, he heard the lazy drawl of the Texan that had already brought such upheaval to the town in only a matter of days.

"Ya know, takin' the goat of a man like that… just might come back ta bite ya."

And then, completely out of the blue, Chris found a grin lighting his face in response to the amusement he'd heard in the voice, even before he turned to see the lazy grin that matched the tone of the words. "Well, I can't give it back now... besides, that prick's got an agenda that needs to be seriously altered."

Vin's grin slipped despite Larabee's confident words. "Still… lockin' horns with the Chief of Police might not be the best way ta climb the ladder in this town."

Chris frowned at that. "I don't give a damn about bureaucratic ass-kissing. A man's actions speak more than his words... and what's with the animal analogies..?" He noticed then the dirty look the old nurse was throwing his way.

Vin grinned at the unexpected question, surprisingly happy to see he had lightened the man's mood and glad to hear he didn't buy into bureaucracy any more than he did. He watched the sharp green eyes take in the signs of the struggle he'd had with the Chief. There was a bruise starting beneath the blood marring the IV needle in his arm, which had shifted and he hoped would now be taken out. He could feel the sheen of sweat lacing his skin and knew his breathing was still too harsh, but Larabee said nothing directly, just nodded towards Buck, who read the message to wait outside for him.

"Why is this patient unrestrained?" the nurse asked, concerned for her safety.

Buck turned back at the aging nurse's question and saw Chris smile slightly to her, eyeing the handcuff left on the table.

"He's been cleared of all charges, Ma'am, he's a free man."

The woman was still obviously hesitant as she stepped closer to Vin, clearly not happy and for the briefest of

moments as he left the room, Buck saw something akin to sadness flicker across the Texan's face. It could not be easy being constantly looked at in that way. He considered the possibility that he'd been too hasty in his judgement of the man, then he smiled as he left the room. Hell, when _wasn't_ he too hasty in his judgement? Sometimes it wasn't always a bad thing, but just sometimes, he was known to be wrong… and he could be sure Chris would never let him get away with it.

Larabee waited patiently by the window while the nurse checked Vin over in silence. There was no reassurance given to her patient, just a clinical assessment of the damage done and short, efficient motions as she carried out her work. She checked all of his vital signs, made notes and removed the IV line. She offered no explanations and Vin asked no questions of her. As she finished and turned to leave, Vin's soft voice shocked her, causing her to jump.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

She turned and met his eye and held it for a moment, only nodding sharply in the face of his sincerity, as if sensing a trap, before scooting from the room. Chris narrowed his eyes on her retreating back.

"So, I'm cleared?"

Chris moved from the window and took the seat beside Vin's bed, turning it deftly and straddling it. "If you can believe Levitz."

"So I'm _not_ cleared..."

Chris shook his head. "I've been trying to get information all day, running into brick walls at every turn. This was news to me. It was all riding on the statement of the girl... and Levitz must have gotten it out of her first."

Vin thought about that, then his face grew hard. This was Sugar's doing, he was sure of it. He was innocent, but he still didn't like the thought of someone like Sugar intimidating a young girl. So much had happened since he'd first met Larabee and his team only hours ago.

"I didn't touch that girl."

It was a long second in Vin's life until Chris let out a slow breath and dipped his head. It was his eyes more than his words that told Vin he believed him. For some reason, that mattered a lot to the younger man.

The Texan gave the smallest of nods in return and there was a moment of silence, both knowing that time was precious and there were things that needed to be discussed.

"Still, you've created a lot of waves around town…"

Vin leant his head back on his pillow and looked up at the ceiling. "How did this get so fucked up?" He asked no-one in particular. "I was just gonna case things out, nothin' more."

"…And so much for that phone call."

A tired sigh preceded the tired voice that answered, speaking in a low tone, conscious of being overheard even with the door closed. Chris wanted the story, wasn't going to leave til he got it.

"I went back, told the boys it wasn't the cops' fault last night... I thought they'd bought it..." He nearly laughed at that. By all indications, the club wanted him dead - the Denver chapter that was, but telling Larabee that meant ending his cover - and that wasn't something he would allow to happen. He could handle his own problems.

"There hasn't been any retaliatory action from the club as yet for the shooting, but it's hitting the press as we speak."

Vin nodded, he'd expected as much. A story like that wouldn't stay hushed for long. "That's not ta say there won't be."

"What the hell happened after you left?"

"After I told the club what happened, I was headed over to the hospital, must've gotten there, don't remember

much… next thing I know I wake up in some motel room, the cops are raidin' the place, they bust into the room I'm in an' find me in the same bed with that girl…" He shook his head, still trying to accept what had happened. "I couldn't get my head `round it; I couldn't even piece together what day it was when the Chief comes in with his boys an'," he pointed one hand to his bruised and cut face, "they arrest me."

Chris shook his head. The bruises and cuts that marred Tanner's face were not the result of a light beating.

"No matter how we play this, this is going to get serious."

Vin was up for it. "That son of a bitch has got to go down. `Bastard looked like he was runnin' on routine last night. He's got his own group a' boys he's familiar with. Hell, I'm surprised he hasn't been pulled up before now by some poor bastard, pullin' stunts like this."

Chris had suspected as much, but now there was no doubting it. The Chief had to be stopped. "If he thought for a second you were a government agent, he'd be in here with flowers and chocolates." He smiled briefly then shook his head thoughtfully. "Or a gun to your head... Your unannounced arrival could just prove worthwhile after all."

"If we can manage to keep my cover under wraps from the other departments. I was hoping you'd see that when you walked in. This might be a great way of nailin' the son of a bitch."

"You could be right... I'm wondering though how he knew where to find the girl last night, and why he went there personally to take care of it?"

"I haven't heard anythin', but I've kinda been outta commission."

"The Doctor you saw at the hospital, do you remember him?"

Vin's brow puckered. "When I came in with the Doc from the club, we saw a guy he called 'Davo', they knew each other well... why?"

Chris thought of the Doctor's name, David Leach. "I spoke with him earlier and he knew a lot more than he let on. I figured he was in with the club."

"An affiliate from the sounds of it. Doc knew he was on duty, that's why we went down there."

Chris nodded, but he had more serious things to discuss. "Why did your club let you take the fall for this? Why haven't they come out with a statement in your defence?"

He watched Vin's reaction closely and didn't like what he saw there – indecision, hesitation, for however brief it was.

"Tell you what," he said before the Texan lied to him. "You tell me what you know as the truth, and we have a chance of working together. You don't trust me right now, I'm pulling you out anyway, no matter what the truth turns out to be."

Vin studied the ATF Captain's serious expression and finally sighed. "Allright," he said after a pause, "but you have to trust me... trust that I'm experienced enough to know what I can an' can't handle."

Chris was thoughtful before nodding. "Alright."

Vin laid his head back again and looked at the roof. "Yer right, they should'a backed me. Back home they would've, but here..." he shrugged slightly, "here it's diff'rent. I'm an outsider all over again. They needed someone to take the fall an' they picked me, cos I'm from outta town." He didn't say it was also because he thought Jake had wanted him taken out of the game; that perhaps they hadn't bought his story at all last night and on top of that, there was someone else who wanted him dead, according to the now dead Decker.

"I thought being in the club gave you the freedom to be a member anywhere in the country, heck, _out_ of the country for that matter."

"It does, just not here. This chapter's out of control, they're runnin' their own ship. The President himself is headin' up here from Texas to sort it out."

Chris was surprised. If the President was risking coming out himself, the situation was serious. "You think you can find out what they're into? After what you've said, it sounds like they're not going to let you in on anything... In fact it sounds like it's not safe for you here on any level."

Vin smiled at that and looked at Chris. "Hell, I ain't safe anywhere... but the Texas boys'll be ridin' in in the next few days fer the funeral, so m'back'll be covered. Once they get here, things'll change. We'll find out what these boys are up to."

He saw that wasn't enough for Larabee and went on to reassure him. "An' there's a few boys I know here already. Even if there wasn't, I got the club Enforcer on m'side, that's more'n enough."

Chris tilted his head. "Isn't he the guy who put you in the hospital the first time round?"

At that Vin gave a wry laugh, looking at it from Chris's perspective. "He's jist doin' his job."

The blonde Captain shook his head at the craziness of the biker world. "And what do you think will happen once the President gets here?"

Vin looked thoughtful. "Don't know fer sure. He might want payback fer losin' his boys, maybe plan somethin' 'round the funeral... he might jist wanna clean out the chapter, put 'em back in their place... guess it depends on what he finds once he gets here... and what resistance he's met with."

Chris looked at the door, time was moving on and he needed to get Travis the proof he wanted so that he could move Vin's paperwork along, although he didn't mention that to the Texan. "I need to confirm what Levitz said about the girl's statment and make sure you're really in the clear, then I'll be back. They told me you'd be in for a few days."

Vin frowned at that news and he suddenly looked restless. "Reckon I'm ready now..."

That brought a smile to Larabee's lips. "Reckon you _think_ you are, but you're not going anywhere yet." His face was serious. "You've taken a hell of a beating, on top of the injuries you already had. You won't do any good to the case if you kill yourself. Your lucky that broken rib didn't punch through your lung."

Vin looked away from the intense green eyes. "Don't plan on dyin'... just don't like hospitals is all. Never thought I'd be in one again so soon. Things've been movin'a lot faster up here then I've gotten m'self used to," he admitted.

"You looking forward to getting back?"

Vin sensed there was more to Chris's question, remembered the mention of a job offer the night before, but didn't interrupt.

"From what I hear, your Captain isn't about to let you get back on the case you were on."

Vin swore. "Lomely'll come round, he just needed to let things cool off fer a while an' Walters' was ridin' his back. It's the same ol' story, everyone wants somethin' done, but no-ones prepared ta put up the risk."

"Except you."

Vin's eyes levelled at Chris, although he didn't find any condescension there. They'd gone over this last night.

"I told ya before, I'm prepared to do whatever it takes."

"The question I want to know is why."

The Texan looked away, and it was all Chris needed to see to know that he was hiding something. Standing up, he walked to the window. There was no sunshine to be seen now, just the dismal, black sky hovering over the city, with an underlying rumble of thunder starting to make its way over the cluttered land.

"I'm going to be straight with you, Vin. When I signed on to head up my team, I was prepared to find men who had what it will take to put an end to the clubs operations in this state. So far, I think I've accrued a good side. I'm committed to this outfit and I've got a lot on the line." He shook his head as he turned back and looked at Vin directly.

"But this isn't personal for me."

Still, Vin didn't speak and seeing he wasn't going to, Chris again looked out the window. "You want to take the club down, you want to take Levitz down, that's a tall order for any one man. The way I see this, if you want to stay on this case and not lose everything you've worked for, there's only one way it's going to happen, but you've got to be straight with me. I need to know what's in your hand before I agree to play the next round with you."

Vin was confused, not sure what the man wanted from him. He waited as the Captain turned toward him again, just as his phone starting ringing and he watched him pull it from his pocket. Just before answering the call he gave him a half smile and dropped his bombshell.

"I want some straight answers before I convince you to join my team."


	11. Pipe Dreaming

**Part 11. Pipe Dreaming**

_And now I'm trying to tell you  
About my life  
And my tongue is twisted  
And more dead than alive  
And my feelings  
My feelings, they've been betrayed  
And I was born a little damaged man  
And look what they made_

He said, don't you find  
That it's lonely  
The corridor  
You walk there alone  
And life is a game  
You've tried  
And life is a game  
You're tired

_**from 'Velvet Morning', by The Verve**_

At the private hospital across town, Josiah and Nathan looked up as Ezra approached, looking decidedly pissed off for a man who reputedly rarely showed any emotion.

"Something happen, Brother?"

Ezra looked at Josiah, his jaw tight. "Mr Tanner has been cleared. Ms McBride's official statement has already been sent through to headquarters. In fact, it is probably already typed, printed and bound, given how long ago it was taken from the police."

Nathan stood up. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Apparently the Chief himself questioned the girl when he was here. We've been kept as mushrooms, my friends, and it was no mistake."

"I'll be damned. I knew the Chief was up to something before." Josiah was already getting his phone out. "What did the girl's report say?"

Ezra took the seat Nathan had vacated and crossed his ankles over a low-lying coffee table sitting between the chairs. "That she went with the men willingly and passed out drunk at the party after her friend went home. To her recollection, she has never laid eyes on Mr Tanner before… and she was never assaulted."

Nathan shook his head as Josiah connected to Chris. All of that worry for her family could have been so easily avoided, not to mention the punishment that Tanner had taken because of it.

"Furthermore, the forensics' report concluded the same thing. No sexual assault, not so much as a bruise marring her skin. Nothing except traces of MDMA in her blood with a large alcohol reading - a daring combination, to say the least."

Josiah got up and stretched his massive frame as he filled their captain in on the phone.

Nathan spoke softly to Ezra after a moment as Josiah talked. "How you feeling, Ezra?"

Ezra was a little surprised by the question. Sincere concern directed toward him still came as a shock. "I'm fine, thank you Mr Jackson."

Before Nathan could say anything else Josiah stepped back to them. "Chris wants us over at the hospital." He looked at Ezra as he got up. "Not you, he wants you to go home." Ezra scowled but Josiah just smiled, putting his arm over the Southerner's shoulders as he guided him down the corridor, Nathan beside them. "You really don't want to piss Chris off."

Ezra slanted Josiah a sideways look of defiance but said nothing. There was no point, these men seemed

determined to ignore his own ability to take care of himself.

..

Chris hung up his phone and turned back to Vin, who had been listening intently at the mention of his name.

"So _now_ I'm cleared?" He asked again, smiling this time, trying to guess the other half of the conversation.

"The girl gave her statement to the Chief directly, before he came here to see you." Despite the words, Chris was scowling. "The son of a bitch had the doctors working for him, my men couldn't get near her. She went to that party of her own accord and she's never seen you before. There's no sign of abuse of any kind in the forensic reports."

Vin felt a tightness in his chest ease. Hearing the closure in Chris's words was a relief. Even though he'd known he was innocent, sometimes he knew that wasn't enough. Still, he wondered what part Sugar had played in her statement.

"I can't believe I got caught up in that," he said honestly, still trying to come to terms with everything that had

happened in the last twenty-four hours.

"Well if you hadn't, you wouldn't have had the pleasure of meeting Denvers finest member of the law enforcement."

Vin saw the jest in Chris's eyes and shook his head. "Lucky me."

Another silence fell and Chris waited, seeing that Vin was going to speak.

"Were you serious?" He finally asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Chris didn't have to ask about what. "Your file was on my desk before I met you."

Vin remembered the reference to a 'job opportunity' that Larabee had made outside the club. He hadn't known what to make of it then, and he'd had more important issues on his mind, like not bleeding to death.

"After you left last night, I spoke with Will Benning, he's head of ATF here in Denver, and my boss. He told me in no uncertain terms to pull you in off the street, but then he woke me first thing this morning with the call that you were here. We met with Orin Travis, he's the ATF Director."

Vin knew who Travis was. He'd heard many a tale about the former Judge. The man was a legend across the

country for getting the bad guys - and putting them away.

"He agreed to your transfer to my team, on the condition that you were cleared of the charges made against you. That's all I've been waiting on, I've been working on it all day."

Vin was shocked, both that Larabee would bother and that Travis would make such an agreement. "Why? Travis knows nothin' about me."

"You're wrong about that. He knows about the work you've done over these last years and he knows how deep you've gone on this case - that it would take years to get a new man inside, if we could manage it at all. He and Douglas Murphy –"

"Murphy…"

Chris looked at Vin's pensive expression. "You know him?"

But Vin shook his head. "No. Just know _of_ him. He did a lot to stop the drugs movin' up through the border into Texas. Real headache fer the club down there over the years."

"Well he's the head of the DEA here now. He also sees the value of bringing you in, given your experience and knowledge of the club. He's a passionate man when it comes to wanting them brought down. He's the one who convinced me to take up this position, he and Benning together - and they're the ones who put your file on my desk."

"Glad my arrival was so secret," Vin said sarcastically.

Again a silence descended on the room. Chris couldn't tell from Vin's closed expression what he was thinking and retreated again to the window to give him some space.

Vin couldn't believe Larabee had made him the offer to join his ATF team in just a few days of knowing him. There was nothing binding him to Texas, except his other bike, some uncollected belongings and a rented apartment to sort out, but surely it couldn't be as simple as Larabee was suggesting? On the one hand, the man was dead right. Although he hadn't told him as much Lomely would never let him back on the case again, no matter what he said to try and convince him. The man had shied well away from the cause.

In fact, he'd be lucky if any department in Texas would take the club on again directly in the next twelve months, given the heat over the FBI mess that had gone down. Nobody wanted to blow the budget out with so little chance of a good result.

He'd worked with the DEA and the ATF many a time over the last years, but had not considered crossing

departments. He chose his questions carefully.

"Why're the ATF involved, ain't this the DEA's problem?"

Chris was happy the Texan had finally spoken. He could be patient when he wanted to be, but the contemplative silence had begun to wear him down. He didn't let his excitement show, but the fact that Tanner had not refused outright was a good start.

"We're one of several specialist teams being put together across the country to look into the rising club activities, amongst other things. We come under the direct branch of the ATF and report to Wilson, head of ATF, but we're a specialist division. We work on cases that cross over from other departments into the ATF's domain, starting with an investigation into the bikers, which means we work closely with Murphy and his department."

"So yer a new team?"

"Not even two months old."

Again Vin fell silent, taking in the facts before Chris pushed a little more.

"We need a man with a road in. With you on board, we'll be picking up years of undercover work and a wealth of knowledge... Not to mention I wanted a sharpshooter."

Vin looked up at that. It seemed Larabee knew everything about his skill set. He'd obviously done his reading.

"When this is over, there will be other cases to take on, but right now, as far as I know, no-one has ever gotten as far into the biker ranks as you have."

Vin gave a short laugh. "'There was Lucas Walsh."

Chris frowned at the name, it was not familiar. "Who's Lucas Walsh?"

"He was an undercover detective, spent two years in California with the local club there."

Chris picked up on the use of the word 'was' again. "What happened to him?"

Vin shrugged. "Hard ta say... there's a few diff'rent theories. One's that the club found out he'd infiltrated them an' rigged a bomb under his house, blew him ta hell."

When he didn't go on, Chris obliged. "And the other theories..?"

"...All have the same endin'." Vin smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Chris frowned. He got Vin's point. He knew how much risk this case was, to all of them, but in Tanner's position, he was walking a fine line. He needed to choose his allegiances very carefully.

"You thinking of downgrading your personal risk policy?" Did he want out? Chris hadn't thought he did, considering what he'd said so passionately the night before.

Vin laughed. "Hell no. No one'll insure me anyway. My only point was that the last time someone got this close, he got dusted, an' it was most likely by someone inside his own department."

Chris didn't need to know much about the man before him to understand he wasn't someone who trusted others to watch his back. His voice was clear as he offered the only assurance he could. "Aside from the men in authority that will need to approve this, like Travis, Lomely, Benning and Murphy, no-one outside of my team will know who you are… and you can trust my men." _And me_, his eyes said loud and clear.

"An' how well do you know yer men?"

"I picked them myself, carefully. They're good men."

Vin raised one brow again up at Chris. "You've only known _me_ two days."

Chris grinned at that, it was a fair point. "I'm a good judge of character. You can trust me."

"I do," Vin surprised him by saying, and for a moment Chris saw that he was hesitating on his next words, was perhaps going to agree to the offer, but instead, frustratingly, he remained silent.

"But…" Chris prompted, "it's not enough," he finished for him. He backed away again, but pressed his argument. "No-one else is going to make you an offer to let you finish what you started in Texas."

"Is that what yer prepared to do, let me finish this? To do that, I've gotta get back out there soon as I can. They'll be expectin' ta break me outta here tomorrow."

Chris looked back, trying to see the extent of what `finish this' meant. "That depends… Why do you want them so badly?" he asked point blank.

Again Vin looked down, only briefly, but Chris caught it all the same and suddenly he was angry. "I'm offering you the only chance you're going to get here, and still you're not being level with me. All I'm asking from you is the reason why you're so bent on bringing these guys down. It's personal for you."

"It's just a case," Vin denied.

"You've got a stake in it."

"Sure I have, I'm puttin' myself on the line here."

"And I want to know why you'd do that."

Two stubborn, firm jaws locked, two intense sets of eyes gleamed at each other as the heightened words

died into yet another silence, broken finally by a soft drawl.

"What the hell would ya know 'bout what this is fer me?"

Chris didn't let up. "I know enough to see that in most cases, when a man's willing to put his life on the line, it's not for the love of his job. Something else is driving him."

"Men die fer their country all the time," Vin argued stubbornly and Chris shook his head.

"This isn't about king or country, this is about you – just you. I hope you're admitting that to yourself at least."

Vin's mind was working fast. He really had messed up in coming here unannounced – and there was no chance of picking things up in Texas, he could see that clearly now. Here he was, with all that he'd been searching for his entire life falling into place neatly around him, closer than he had ever been to his goals, and he couldn't find a willing answer that would satisfy the man who could help him get it all. He knew now that he could not leave Denver without getting what he wanted, and Larabee was offering him a legitimate way to do just that.

Chris saw Vin's chest relax, heard the long breath he let out and still he waited.

"I've only worked with the ATF on a few operations, I know nothin' 'bout their procedures an' trainin'."

He was close, Chris could feel him wavering, even as he acknowledged that he had dodged his question yet again.

"Neither did the rest of the team. We're all undergoing departmental training. There are courses we have to

undertake, but each of us has our own area of expertise. A few of us have military backgrounds; Nathan was a medic; Ezra was with the FBI; JD's a communication's nerd… you'll meet them all properly in time. They're good men," he reinforced, "men that will back you up without question. I made sure of that when I brought them together."

One last silence and Chris laid it on the line again. "So what's it going to be? I can get the paperwork sorted today, get you working the case again – officially," he stressed the last word. "But I need to know the truth - where does this end for you?"

_When my father is dead._

Chris saw the flicker of emotion cross Vin's face and suddenly registered the pain he saw there. In the glittering depths there stood a plea._ 'Don't make me answer that.' _But he had to know. He shook his head in denial. "It's the only way it's going to happen, Vin. You can keep your secrets and walk away if you want to, but it's not going to get you back on this case."

"What if what ya hear makes ya take the offer back?"

Chris's gaze sharpened, but he reassured him. "You'd be surprised what I'd understand."

"Sometimes a man's motives're pretty selfish."

"Like revenge?" Chris asked.

Vin's eyes widened slightly. "Somethin' like that."

This time Chris did not retreat. Instead he pressed forward, again taking the chair and straddling it, leaning forward towards the torn man. "I know a little something about wanting revenge."

Vin tilted his head back, showing he wanted to know what that was and Chris's voice dropped a little in

remembrance. This was not easy for him, but he wanted Vin to know that he understood personal ambition – and the need for payback. He prepared himself to talk about something he had never spoken to a soul about.

"A little over a year ago, I was with the Marshall's Office in Chicago - had my own special op's group. Buck was with me.. I've known him most of my life. We joined after we left the army together. We were there for a few years," he paused and Vin tried unsuccessfully to read his expression. This was a bad tale, whatever it was had cut the man deep.

"We were escorting a prisoner out of state… when my wife and son were killed in a fire back home."

It took Vin a second to realise how heavy those words were, when Larabee hadn't put any more weight into them than he had any of the others. There was nothing in his face to give away their significance, no variation in his tone to indicate their import. He listened in silence, picking up more from what wasn't said rather than what was. He correctly sensed that this was not a tale he had often told.

"The investigation found nothing, they told me it was a terrible accident." He laughed then and Vin saw the deep anguish in his eyes for the first time. "A terrible accident," he repeated, then shook his head as if to stop himself from dwelling on the matter. When he spoke again his voice was firmer. "I wanted revenge, for a long time, but I had no target. It didn't stop me wanting it though… I still do."

"Is that when ya took on this job?" Vin asked, trying to put the time frames together.

Chris nodded, dodging the dark mood chasing him. "Wilson was my old army captain. He came and dragged my butt out here to Denver to take it on." Time to turn it back on Tanner. "My point is, I know when a man's chasing something… or running from something… and I know when something's driving him to not care whether he lives or dies."

Vin's eyes narrowed. It was back to him. He'd felt like he'd had a reprieve for a second, but realised now that

Larabee was merely reeling him in for the kill. "I already told ya, I ain't plannin' on dyin'."

Chris waited, hearing again the strong drawl emerge, betraying the dismissive words. "You're prepared to do whatever it takes, you said so yourself."

Vin shook his head, but his eyes did not convince Chris.

"What I want to know right now is where you're headed. I owe that much to my men." He wanted to know if he could trust him.

Vin sighed. He had to give him something. It was a catch 22. If he wanted to lay his past to rest and get the revenge he desired, he had to give some of it up. His words came swift and sudden.

"My mother was killed by bikers."

Chris was stunned into silence for a second. After endless minutes of drilling him, he'd just spat it out, no frills

attached.

"When?"

Vin shrugged, as if it no longer held any significance for him, but inside he was trying to quickly gather the right information, to coincide with the records Larabee had no doubt already read, yet still sound like he was giving something away. "When I's a kid, back in Texas."

Chris thought about that. That was a long time to harbour thoughts of revenge. Then he frowned. "I thought your parents died in a car crash."

Now he was going to lie, and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel right. "It was the bikers' fault. They ran them off the road."

Chris listened and realised that although there was truth in the words, something still wasn't right in Vin's story. He had said his mother had died at first, nothing about his father, but he was talking and it was a start.

"What happened to you then?"

Vin spoke as if it was of little consequence. "State care, foster homes… When I's old enough I joined the marines, then the NTF."

It was a clinical life synopsis. So much to fill in. "And all that time you waited to get back at them?"

Vin sighed tiredly. "I guess so. Fer a long time I didn't know what I wanted." He looked at Chris, wanting him to understand. "If ya found out someone was responsible fer that fire that killed yer family, could put a face to their deaths - that it was lit deliberately even, would ya act on it?"

Chris didn't hesitate, his words violent and heartfelt. "I'd gut the motherfucker."

Vin nodded and after a moment Chris's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying you know who it was, exactly, that ran their car off the road?"

Vin was careful. "I have my suspicions. I think a few of `em might be here, in Denver."

So he _wanted_ to be here, Chris thought, despite acting like he was being forced. Tanner really did have an agenda, and he certainly knew how to play his hand.

"And when you find these men?"

But Vin didn't need to answer that, for Chris had voiced the words for him just moments before. The words repeated silently in the room as they held a solemn gaze.

Chris studied the gaze directed at him, knowing that the words were true. He wasn't sure whether this could ever be over for Tanner, there was so much anger there, just waiting for the opportunity to be released. To most people, he would seem like a carefully controlled man, but Chris knew now the rage that lied beneath… and he knew that feeling well. The difference for him had been the men that had pulled him back from the darkness he had dwelled in for too long following his family's death. He owed them for that. He wasn't about to forget the importance of having good friends that were willing to step in whether you wanted them to or not - and he wasn't about to let Tanner ruin his life either, not over the lives of such unworthy men. Just why he cared so much he couldn't say, perhaps it was a way of paying someone back for the kindness, support and friendship shown to him during the most difficult time of his life.

"You join my team, you're a part of it. We work as one. That's the only way it can be, the seven of us, working

together with the same goal. No-one has a hidden agenda." He gave Vin a hard look. "That might not be the way you're used to working, but I won't accept anything less. So if there's anything else you want to tell me, now's your chance..."

Vin said nothing, but knew that Larabee was telling him if he accepted the position and was lying to him, there'd be consequences he wouldn't want to meet.

"... but on the up side," he continued, "seven men will prove a hell of a lot more powerful than one."

Vin realised he'd held his breath and let it out. For just a moment, he'd felt the lifted weight of a burden shared. Larabee knew what he was after, and he was offering to help him get it. He and his team were behind him, all he had to do was agree. Yet he hesitated, too many questions and thoughts still plaguing him, his mind trying to understand if Larabee was being completely level with him.

But then the ATF Captain was on his feet and his hand was heading towards him, palm open.

"So, have we got a deal?"

And as he looked from the proffered hand and back up to those steady green eyes, he saw that the hint of humour was back again. He also saw a man that was arrogantly confident he was about to get what he wanted… and he knew he could trust him. No matter what developed, Chris Larabee was going to be on his side.

A bandaged wrist raised up from the bed and just as Chris made to speak again, Vin shocked him by reaching his arm up further with a surprising show of strength and speed, to lock his firm grip around his forearm, forcing him to grip back.

"So long as ya know what yer bringin' on board," he queried one last time, giving Chris a chance to take it back.

But Chris knew. With Vin was coming a whole rap sheet of unwritten trouble, but he also knew what else he brought to the team. Not only was he highly skilled, he had courage and integrity – and the will to see things through. He might be a man dedicated to a cause, but for now it was his cause too. Later they could work on what came next but for now, he was the only man he would consider for his team. And as he gripped his arm in a firm show of closure, he felt nothing but a measure of satisfaction and a sense of completion. The search was over. He had the last member of his team.


	12. Of Lions and Snakes

**Part 12. Of Lions and Snakes**

The voices were muffled through the thick, wooden door, but with one ear placed to the smooth surface, she was able to make out most of the them. Comfortable in her long-standing position in the relative fortress and not afraid of the consequences of being caught eavesdropping, Suzy slid down the stone wall and sat cross-legged by the door, curling her bare feet beneath her and listening intently to the conversation taking place within the walls. She had been living there so long now, she was like a permanent fixture that was often overlooked by the assortment of people that came and went… and it had been a long, long time since she had been curious enough about anything enough to put herself out of her way.

She had returned with Jake that morning from her short-lived trip to the city, aware of the tension that the shoot-out the night before had caused. She knew that, despite Turner's word that Decker had started the trouble, there would be something in the works to avenge their club members' deaths. Experience taught her that the actions need not be justified, merely condoned by the club's leaders.

So far, she had heard Billy growl about the law, angry that they were starting to interfere in their activities too much. She pressed her ear further to the flat surface and heard his familiar voice responding to Jakes suggestion that they retaliate against the police before the funeral procession set for Thursday. As usual, the President's low, throaty words sounded as though he'd just finished smoking three packets of cigarettes...

_"I'd decided to wait until the funeral to strike - lull them into a false sense of security. By then the bastards wouldn't think we're gonna do anythin'. They'd beef up public security so much for the procession, they wouldn't be watchin' their own backs... but I want to get that truck out of the city and doin' somethin' now might be a good way to cover it. Plus, Bale's starting to make me nervous."_

Inside the office Jake gave a dry laugh. He hadn't seen nervousness in his old friend's sharp eyes since they were kids... maybe not even then.

"Again? He always panics when we're ready to move."

"Yeah, he's starting to get to me. Either he gets his shit together or we need to look at a new manager for the

facility..." which meant he would have him retired, permanently. "I wanna send someone out to put the pressure on, someone who can use some brains this time, not just go down there looking for a fight."

"I'll look into it... So, once the shipment's gone, what've you got in mind for the cops?" Whatever Billy masterminded would fall on him to execute, so he needed to pay attention - it was his job, after all. He watched as Billy pulled out a large envelope from his drawer and tipped photographs onto his desk.

"We'll hit them at the source," Billy said, laying several photographs together. "There's been a lot of activity lately at the top end. They want to beef up their force against us? We need to let them know we ain't standin' for it. That's another reason I want to hit back now."

Jake craned his neck to look at the photos as Billy continued.

"I'm not gonna sit back while the motherfuckers put together a specialist team to wipe us out. If we stay quiet and let them gather `round us, then we'll have somethin' to worry about."

"What specialist team?" This was news to him.

Billy made a 'tsk tsk' noise as he shook his head. "You're slipping, old friend. There was a time you would have known about it before me... You're getting too complacent in your old age."

Jake merely grinned. "No, you're just getting more paranoid."

"And this time it's paid off... The bastards have put together a team, for the sole purpose of wiping us out."

Jake wasn't grinning any more. "Levitz tell you this?" He'd spoken with Levitz about the girl that morning and the bastard hadn't said anything to him then.

"Yeah. Said the man in charge, Larabee, is gonna be trouble."

Jake paused at the name. "Nice of him to let us know," he shook his head. "Larabee's already causing trouble."

Billy looked up from the photographs. "How's that?"

"He was the one in charge at the shooting last night."

Billy swore. So they had already made their first move...

"Levitz wouldn't have said anything if he didn't want them out of the picture. He doesn't want anyone encroaching on his turf. And why haven't we heard about this team before now?" Jake said, pissed off that none of their other connections had given them this news.

"Well, we know now, so I want to deliver a message before they get up and running. We'll hit direct, no mediator. Hell, not even the boys back in Texas have a team assigned to them no more, I sure ain't standin' for it. It's gonna cause problems, even if we've covered all our bases, it's gonna create too much work for us. We can't risk a bust until we offload that shipment."

"I thought after Texas they'd lay off for a while at least."

Billy thought about that a moment, then looked up from the photos and said in a curious voice, "We really should thank Turner for that one of these days."

Outside, Suzy's ears pricked up at the name and she heard a cold laugh.

"I think Decker thanked him enough for everyone. You remember what he looked like when he was through beatin' on him? Ain't seen a kid that fucked up since Mikey Robson down in California that time after the New Year run."

Another cold laugh.

"Least Turner kept all his organs - Got the Fed budget cut in Texas after that too."

"You know he's stayin' out here for a while?"

Billy nodded. "Sugar called me a few weeks back, soundin' like a mama bear worryin' 'bout her cub." He wasn't sure what that call had been about, but he'd definitely heard something strange and unfamiliar in the Enforcer's voice.

"Don't know what the fuck he thought I'd do, buy the kid flowers or somethin'?"

Jake knew how much his old friend hated the long standing club Enforcer. Theirs was a mutual, open dislike that went back as long as he could remember. They'd both been in the club as long as each other and had clashed to the day Billy had left to start up his own chapter.

Jake pointed to the pictures. "So, what have we got here?"

"These are the top players." He pulled one picture out from behind the others. "Murphy you already know."

Jake nodded. "But why now? He's been on our back for years."

"On his own he's been ineffective, but he's been bringing in other players to shut us down - and they're the guys we need to take out."

"Who's this?" Jake asked, nodding at a photograph of a stern looking, middle-aged man in a military uniform,

standing in a rigid pose.

"Benning. Former military. He's been brought in to help out Murphy. Target number one," he finished darkly.

"What about Murphy?"

Billy moved Benning aside to reveal a picture of another man in uniform, this time a younger man, with a half smile, his sharp green eyes peering against the sun into the camera. Beside the picture was another, of the same man in a police uniform, receiving some sort of award at a ceremony.

"He can wait. This is Larabee. Benning recruited him from his old outfit."

Jake shook his head. "Why are we only finding out about this now?" he said again. Something in the web of their reach had failed.

Billy went for yet another cigarette, shaking his head. "I think Levitz knew before this... I think the prick sat on it for a while." He sniggered then, "But you're right, the old fool wants his town back now and he doesn't like all this new blood on his turf."

Jake studied the pictures and took a cigarette from Billy. "He's old school. Only a matter of time before they put him out to pasture."

"He can be anything he wants, so long as he knows his place."

That reminded Jake of another important matter. "Speaking of Turner, Levitz's boys really did a number on him."

Billy studied Jake then, slightly amused at the thought of what Sugar would say about that. "Under your order?"

Jake shrugged, lighting his smoke and taking a quick drag. "After I called you I decided to give him a message. Sugar's protege or not, it didn't sit right that he walked away from last night with just a scratch when everyone else got bagged."

"Thought you said he was bein' straight with you..."

There was a pause and outside the door Suzy found she was holding her breath. If Jake gave the word that Turner was suspect, he was as good as dead – and she knew how quickly such life-altering decisions could be made. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly actions could start in Billy's office. With the word of one man, another's life could be changed forever.

"Well, he did take one in the side, he was bleedin' all over Chooks' new carpet," that memory brought a smile to Jake's face, remembering how the bar manager had then tensed up as he'd butted out his cigarette on the newly prized fabric, yet had said nothing to him in protest. "And Decker was pretty wired when he left to find him, I can see how he mighta got them in trouble... but I think maybe Turner didn't try as hard as he could have to help 'em. There was no love lost between him and Decker, maybe he let him fall..."

"I heard they got into it before the cops turned up."

"Yeah, Chooks had two hundred riding on Decker, he's mighty pissed about it."

"Levitz would've gotten a kick out of taking one of our boys down. That old prick hates us with every bone in his body and you gave him a license to do something he's wanted to do for years. I'm surprised the kid's alive."

Jake looked at Billy then and realised the other man was pissed off. "He's breathing well enough," he said a little defensively. He knew what was coming.

"We take care of our own, I don't want that clown thinking he has any power over our boys, no matter where they're from. It's us against them, always will be, you remember that."

Jake met the reprimand with a steady gaze and waited what he thought was an appropriate length of time to show his regret before speaking. "He's off the hook with the rape charge." He raised his eyebrows to show what he was about to say was significant and Billy's chin lifted in response. "The girls' had a sudden change of heart. Seems they decided they'd made everything up and the forensic reports came up negative."

Billy was confused. "Who..?"

Jake shrugged. "I'm guessing it was Sugar... He was pissed off as hell that Turner was taking the fall for this. I should have known when I saw him earlier that he'd do something."

Billy scowled, blowing smoke from his nose as he spoke. "And now he's told Eddie fuck knows what... How the hell did he get here so quick?"

Jake just shook his head, Sugar had seemed to appear out of thin air. There was no way he could have ridden the distance from Texas to Denver after finding out about the shooting. He would have had to have been on the road by then. And the club president was definitely not going to like the fact that they had set one of his own boys up for a fall.

"So who took the girl?" Billy was curious.

"The boys say it was Judd, and seeing's how he's disappeared somewhere in town, it probably was."

Billy whistled. Judd was Decker's brother.

Jake nodded. "Yeah... I've got some boys lookin' for him."

"What is it with that family?"

"The Texas boys are already turnin' up. They're gonna be pissed about Turner, we gotta have some answers and they're gonna want payback. I'm surprised Sugar hasn't been in here doin' a song an' dance yet. The boys tell me he's hanging around the hospital."

Billy got mad. "I don't give a fuck what Sugar's doing, just get him the hell out of my state before I have to do

something I regret. You still got boys down the hospital?"

"Yeah, there were some fed's hangin' `round his room earlier. The boys are gonna move in to make sure they stay the hell away. Sugar isn't going to go anywhere while Turner's laid up and now we're gonna have the whole Texas chapter headin' up here for the funeral. It's gonna be one hell of a procession, we got boys from all over the damn country headin' here by Thursday."

"It's the last thing we fuckin' need right now. And the last thing I wanted was more attention from the cops right now."

Jake understood Billy's frustration. Just when their operation was starting to really take off and they were keeping their heads down to avoid Eddie's ever-watchful eye, everything had gone to hell. If the President found out about everything they had going on without his knowledge, he'd try and shut them down without stopping to blink.

"Well there isn't much we can do about it now. We still have to move that truck before anyone gets here, take care of the funeral and send a little message to the cops to keep them back, then things'll go back to normal."

They were quiet a moment, both knowing it was going to be a trial getting through the next week.

Jake shifted the photos around again, pointing his cigarette to the picture of Benning. "So, how we gonna take this guy out..?"

..

"Need a hand up there, honey?"

Suzy jumped. High. But she recovered smoothly, smiling lazily up at the skinny frame of Warren Lance, where he stood leering down at her with a knowing expression on his sharp, bearded face. It was a long, scraggly beard that made her itchy just looking at it, with a head shaved clean of its dirty blonde hair and a multitude of multicoloured tattoo's creeping up his neck and into his non-existent hairline.

"I'm waiting to talk to Billy."

"I'll bet you are…" his voice was so smug it infuriated her.

She stood with her natural slow grace and eased a crick out of her lower back with exaggerated show.

"Think I'll wait and see him later - catch some more sleep."

She walked off, not looking back to see Warren's grin follow her down the entrance hall of the massive complex. She was thinking about Turner and about the men that had been marked for a hit, for nothing more than opposing their belief system. This world was a dark, sad place, she decided again, for the millionth time that week. One day she was going to escape it, return to the life she had thought was so bad before. Firstly, though, she thought as she yawned wide, maybe she would catch some more sleep. It looked like the next

few days leading up to the funeral were going to be full ones.

..

Chris Larabee's contentment was premature. Having felt as if he'd achieved the harder part of his mission that day, he'd left the hospital with a sense of satisfaction and progression, rostering his men to watch Tanner's room while he finalised the transfer. Unbeknownst to him, contentment was far from apparent in the injured agent's mind. In the long and silent hours after Larabee left his room, broken only by brief visits from some of the members of the club, Vin felt his mood darken around him like a thick mantle that he could not shake. In spite of his conversation with the ATF Captain, or perhaps as a result of it, he could not help but feel like his life was veering out of control. Whether Larabee knew it or not, he'd given him much to think about – and stuck in the hospital like he was, he'd had no choice but to dwell on his thoughts.

All his life he'd been searching, never stopping to question his goal or his motives. He wanted to find his father, and he wanted revenge. Now, with just a few conversations with a relative stranger, he was unsure of his purpose. Would taking his father down bring him peace? Was it his death he really wanted? What if there was no satisfaction in that, no answer to the question he really wanted answered - _how could a man kill his own wife?_ Take a mother from her child and leave that child to his own fate? Everything that had seemed so clear, the path that had seemed to be sharpening before his weary feet, now seemed unsure.

For the first time, he was facing the idea of what life held for him beyond his one ambition, was confronted with the burden of wondering whether he actually cared… and what scared him the most, was right at that moment, he didn't. Life seemed pointless, a waste of time. What had he managed to achieve in his years if his sole aim was meaningless?

By the time his door opened in the late afternoon and the young agent Dunne popped his head in, he was more than frustrated, he was lost and he was ready to strike out at anything that crossed his path. It took only a few terse words and a scowl to clear the kid from his room, but he took no pleasure in that. He just wanted to be left alone and despite the constant sound of the driving rain outside his room, he was uncomfortably warm, though the nurse merely gave him a smile of indulgence when he happened to mention it.

Members from the club checked in on him, but only Charlie he actually knew well. The boys from Texas would be coming soon, though. At least then he would have his own boys watching his back. Outlaws though they may be, they were loyal ones. Charlie, too, told him that he would be happier when they weren't so alienated at the hospital. The massive man spent most of the time sleeping in the corner chair, tired from the long ride up and snoring loudly.

Unlike most people that took one look at the tattoo-covered, intimidating man, Vin took a measure of comfort in his presence. He'd known him nearly as long as he had Keg and liked him well enough. In any case, he was someone to watch his back... when he was awake that was.

When the sky had darkened into evening, he realised that Charlie must have either gone to get food or a decent bed. He decided then that he'd had enough of lying in the bed immobile, stifled by the starched, thin sheet and listening to the faint patter of rain driving down the thick window of his room. He managed to win the struggle to get his hospital issued shirt over his head to bring some coolness to his chest and after a moments contemplation, pulled the sheet back and shifted his legs over the side of the bed to touch his bare feet to the cool floor below with a grimace of effort and pain.

He sat breathing quietly for a moment, feeling his ribs realign with every slight movement, the damage the bullet had caused to his flesh and muscle more evident than ever as his skin tugged and protested the sudden activity. He fingered the bandage over his side, knowing that underneath there would be yet another scar to add to his collection. He no longer cared how neat the stitches were when he got them, only that he survived long enough for someone to put them in.

He eyed the window, his goal, and not for a second doubted he would reach it, for his determination was a powerful force to reckon with at the best of times – and he had been couped up for too long. First, testing his weight on his knee, he was relieved to find the pain greatly diminished, no doubt helped by the thick supporting brace he could feel beneath the cotton of his pants and so began the slow shuffle over to the wide panel of glass. More of an ordeal than he would have liked, but well worth the effort once he was seated, his skin alight with a thin sheen of moisture, on the thick wooden ledge, the blinds opened with weak fingers to reveal the lights of the city beyond the white walls of his room. With a final exhale that was a mixture of pure relief and contentment he leant forward to peer at the streetlights below and looked out at the free space beyond his reach with a hard won measure of satisfaction, one hand resting protectively over his side and the other raised to hold his palm flat to the cool glass.

The memory of his imprisonment, albeit undercover as he had been, was still far too fresh in his mind and mixed with his childhood fear of closed spaces, he was provoked to near panic when confronted with an enclosed area for too long. To say he had been steadily going nuts for the past several hours was an understatement, and so it was with another contented sigh that he took in the view beyond the wet pane, feeling a much-needed sense of freedom with the feel of the cool air on his chest, coming from the proximity of his skin to the cold glass before him. The city, albeit crowded with buildings, was indeed a welcome sight and finally, finally, his troubled mind quieted for a blessed moment.

Gone were the sounds of the hospital beyond his door; the too loud television of the patient beyond his thin wall who liked to watch the news channel at maximum volume; the memory of Charlie's steadily paced snoring that had driven him quietly mad; the sounds of the nurses chattering at the station not too far from his door; and the thoughts that were just as loud within his mind.

Quiet. Illusive peace; the things he craved most.

As if on cue, a police siren sounded down the street below, but he now felt disconnected from the view before him - merely an observer from above. Nobody could see him from his vantage point as he waited for the sight of the police car that would accompany the familiar noise. He felt no sense of anticipation as his keen eyes watched the street – watched for anything out of place. It was habit, which he'd developed at a young age.

Finally the marked car came into view with a flashy show of interchanging red and blue lights, casting rapid fire down deserted alleyways as the vehicle approached and then passed in the blink of an eye, not bothering with the red light of the signals below. Then once more the streetlights were left alone to keep their ever-silent vigil along the darkened street. Only the sharp gaze piercing down from the lonely hospital window above was left carrying a lasting reflection of the blue and red energy that had sliced through the street a moment before.

He had never seen so many flashing police lights until that day… Only a short time after he last saw his father in the flesh. It was still hard to take in - that he was so close to seeing him again. He tried to envision the moment, to get a sense of how he might react. In his mind, he would be neutral, cold even… yet he sensed that was a lie he was making, even to himself.

Some time later, far beyond the boundaries of his room as he was, he missed the barely-there knock that rapped at his door, well lost in a time that he carried with each and every step that he took. As he swallowed back the unpalatable tightness that had built in his throat, he became aware of men cautiously taking silent steps into his room.

Josiah stopped Chris from stepping further forward with a gentle but firm hand to his arm. His shook his head at the questioning gaze, communicating that perhaps they should not intrude on Vin Tanner's thoughts. Yet one look at the haunted profile of the lean man by the window and he knew he had work to do.

Chris felt Josiah's restraining hand but something was telling him to ignore it. For the first time, he was witnessing the full depth of the pain that his new agent was harbouring. Vin's clearly defined profile was revealed by the moonlight beyond the window and it was not just the cuts and bruises and bandages that gave away his pain, it was in the set of his jaw - the glint of his eye as he stared beyond this world to something unseen. The fact that he had not acknowledged their entrance was disturbing enough, but the unexpected sight of him sitting up as he was by the window was a shock, having fully expected him to be in bed.

"You boys tryin'a get me killed, showin' up here again?"

Chris blinked and saw that Vin's eyes had lost their intense stare, but were no less focused, cutting across the dim length of space toward him. He couldn't see his expression clearly, with his back to the light of the window as it was, but knew he had a point. There were bikers everywhere, he couldn't afford to have the ATF taking up residence in his room.

"Need you to sign some papers," he said by way of reply, then after a brief pause, "Should you be up?"

Vin gave a wry smile that Chris had thought to ask. "Was goin' nuts lyin' there."

He dropped the arm that had been holding his weight against the window back to his lap as he turned on the ledge to face them, but not before Chris again had a view of the tattoo beneath his arm, although he still could not make out what it was. He had to admit, with the platitude of bruises, cuts and old scars that he could see clearly on Vin's torso, his upper body looked like one big array of inked patterning. He could also make out a small version of the club tattoo on the inside of his forearm. That was a commitment he didn't think he himself could make, but he understood that Vin would have had to do it and it seemed he'd managed to get away with putting it in a less prominent position.

Cautiously, he entered further into the room, Josiah closing the door and moving with him, and kept his voice low.

"This is Agent Sanchez, another member of the team. Josiah, this is Vin Tanner."

Josiah put out a hand as he reached the window. "Pleased to meet you Vin."

"Likewise," Vin said, taking the hand briefly, wincing at the movement.

Josiah frowned at the mess the man was in. Still, he correctly sensed that physical pain was not what was truly troubling him.

"This might not be the best place ta take care'a this, one'a the boys could walk back in any second."

"We've got someone on the door." Chris told him, his eyes telling him he knew he was trying to put them off.

An awkward silence fell in which Vin had the sudden urge to confront Larabee over the fact that he had provoked the unbidden onslaught of thoughts in his head. It was this son of a bitch that had brought on all of this unwanted thinking, so it was only right that he should be here to bear witness to the seed he'd wittingly planted – now a thorny formation of confusion and anger.

"You sure will be a colourful addition to the team," Josiah said, openly looking him over and assessing his injuries.

Vin couldn't find a smile right then, he had been too deep in contemplation when they had entered to offer idle chatter. He saw the paperwork in Chris's hands and felt like grabbing it and tearing it apart. Obviously Larabee was concerned he was going to back out on his deal, if he had come down here to make sure that he signed it asap. Hell... maybe he'd been intending to do just that.

He studied Josiah's profile, using the light that shadowed his face from the window behind to read the man's face thoroughly. He saw kindness in the wide-set eyes and moved on, rejecting it. He offered no inlet for conversation for he did not want any. In fact, all he really wanted right then was to be left the hell alone.

In the stretching silence he felt suddenly raw, correctly sensing that the massive man was looking into him, probing into his mind unwanted. It was unsettling and it was unwelcome. He felt understandably exposed in the dim light and the silence of his room and had to fight to keep his manner calm. He had an unfamiliar urge to fidget, something he never did.

If Josiah was put off by the hard glint in the shadowed blue eyes before him, he didn't show it. He glanced quickly at Chris, who had come to the same realisation - that JD's concern and frantic call earlier had been founded. Their young team-mate had reported that their soon to be fellow agent was in a foul mood indeed and Chris had brought in the best ammunition he could think of – Josiah Sanchez, aka psychology expert and not to mention, ex-preacher. If Vin was wavering in his decision, he wanted to know right away, but more than that if he needed help, he wanted to make sure he had the best.

He took a slow breath as he studied the lean form by the window and the thought that Vin Tanner did not belong in this white, sterile room came to mind. He noted the deceptively calm face, turmoil given away only by a tightened jaw and one hand, which was somewhat clenched into the folds of his light blue cotton pants. The bruises and cuts marring his face were vivid even in the low light and would take some time to heal. He looked wild, almost, with his hair unkempt and his shirt missing and even though he was seated facing them, his body remained half-turned to the night, as if he would rather take his chances out the window than spend any more time closed up within these four walls.

Josiah used the pause to make an important conclusion. This was indeed a soul troubled – and he didn't need a degree to see that. Chris had certainly brought a challenge to the fold – one he welcomed with open arms, for that was his nature.

Vin pulled himself up higher against the window just as a short, sharp cough chose to cut through his chest, causing him to bend forward with the sudden, sharp pain. He knew only too well what a broken rib felt like and knew it was going to be a long road ahead until he could draw breath without any pain. One hand held his ribs as if he could stop them from shifting, yet he still managed to scowl at the men who stepped forward to help him, stopping himself just short of snarling at them.

Josiah held out a hand as he stepped back from the scowling man that looked ready to bite him if he tried to help him again. He'd moved too quickly, he realised. This was not a man that would accept a stranger's help, if anyone's, readily. He spoke into what he thought might become an eternal silence with apparent nonchalance.

"This stuff will only take a second, we just need a signature or two... do you want to look it over here, or back over there," he nodded toward the empty bed.

Vin looked back up through the hair that had fallen about his face, his chest still locked tight in fear of another cough. He felt the tension beneath his fingers in the muscle that lay over his ribs. Damn them, they weren't going to go away until he gave them what they wanted.

Chris watched as Vin balanced on his feet, pushing off the ledge behind him and slowly making his way back to the bed. He didn't move to help, knowing that it would not be accepted. It was a slow minute before Tanner was sitting up on the stiff mattress again, reaching for his cotton shirt and taking a long time getting it back on. He didn't bother with the buttons, just stared at them expectantly as if to ask them why the hell they were so complicated. The smile that came to Chris's lips was unexpected and drew a further frown from Tanner, yet he didn't bother to explain and he knew Vin would not ask him to as he watched his scowl deepen. This was one ornery son of a bitch, but a damn proud one, he had to give him that.

Relieved to have something to do, anything to avoid the assessing eyes and that all knowing, annoying grin that had surfaced on Larabee's face, Vin settled himself and took the file Josiah handed to him and began to read the printed words, all the while feeling those green eyes studying him. He was unable to focus, finding he had to reread the first paragraph three times before he finally looked up in growing anger at Chris, wishing he had his gun with him at that second. That'd wipe that smug look off his face...

"Somethin' on yer mind?"

But Chris's smile only widened, as if he had anticipated the snap of anger. It wasn't mocking, but it was sure as hell provoking.

"No, just thankful you haven't got your gun handy. I imagine you're seeing my head as a target right about now."

Vin's scowl fled and his expression caused Chris to actually chuckle out loud.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Vin stared for another full second before he felt his lip curl. This man had him so off balance and yet, his presence was not in the least out of place. In fact, he wasn't surprised at all that Larabee had read him like a book. It felt almost satisfying to have somebody understand him, to not judge him by his burst of anger as most would. Larabee had seen past his snapping defence in a second and it felt reassuring, as if suddenly he was not so alone in the world. He shook his head as he looked back down at his papers.

"Take it any damn way you want."

Chris moved to the window, as he had earlier that day, leaving Josiah to annoy their latest team-mate by his close proximity to the bed alone. He had to tip his hat to Josiah, he wasn't the least put off by the mumbled cursing from the lowered head of tangled hair.

Vin was glad when Josiah's massive frame finally sat on the chair by the bed, bringing him down to a less glaring height. After a full five minutes of silence, in which time Vin managed to get through half a page, his mind anywhere but on the contract he was faced with, he heard a muttering from Josiah, but did not catch the words. The man's calm served only to heighten his frustration until he finally looked up sharply.

"Ya got somethin' ya wanna say?"

"No..."

Satisfied, Vin looked back down.

"… but it seems to me you got a heap of weight pressin' on your shoulders there, son…"

Incredulous, Vin looked back up, his disbelief clear in his expressive eyes.

"Sometimes, just giving your thoughts a voice can help."

Vin studied his face, not interested in getting into his personal problems with the man, or anyone else for that matter. _Was everyone in this town so damn nosy?_

"That's right team-like of ya an' all, but I reckon my troubles're my own." He gave a small nod of finality that indicated he considered the subject closed. When Josiah nodded in return a moment later, he sighed inwardly in relief… just before the deep voice started up again and he found himself biting back a curse of frustration.

"Thought you should know though, what you've got there in your hands," Josiah nodded to the unread papers still held in Vin's fingers, "signs you up as the seventh member of a close-knit team. I like to think of the seven of us as... brothers... and that includes you now."

Vin hiked a brow at that as he studied the sincerity on the weathered face, exasperated beyond patience. "Ya don't even know me, why is it you fellers're so ready to trust a man ya don't even know?"

"Chris's faith is good enough for me," Josiah said with a slight shrug of his enormous shoulders.

Vin glanced at Chris who merely shrugged and looked back out the window. Shaking his own head he returned to the paperwork. He had seen for himself the type of man Larabee was. He was a leader that commanded loyalty, but did not have to ask for it. He was someone you wanted to have respect you.

"Son, I don't pretend to know your story, but there's something you should know about me."

Vin looked up again at the tone Josiah used, like he was about to reveal a dark secret and found he was curiously not annoyed as the term `son' was applied to him, again.

"See, I got what some people in modern society might call a curse..."

Vin searched for a hint of humour in the weathered face but found none, although it was ever-present in the deep voice and in the words of utter sincerity that he spoke. He looked again to Chris, but saw that the blond man was still affecting indifference, looking out the window.

"...Seems I'm destined to live this life always giving a damn about my fellow man, most especially those closest to me. I can't help but try and step in, in my own subtle way, if I feel that one of the flock is wandering."

Vin frowned. "Ya sound like a preacher."

"Or a sheppard," Chris quipped without turning from the window.

"Was once," Josiah said, ignoring his leader.

"A sheppard?" Vin asked with a straight face, to which Josiah just gave a small smile, letting him know he couldn't deflect his way out of the conversation. Somehow he wasn't surprised that this man had been a preacher. "So ya decided collar'n others was pref'rable ta collar'n yerself?" It wasn't really a question and Vin wondered why he'd even voiced it. He wasn't a man to throw words away lightly. Frustrated that he was again unbalanced, he shook his head and looked the ex-preacher in the eye. "No need ta worry about me wanderin' far, Jo'siah, Larabee'll make sure'a that."

Chris grinned in acknowledgement from the window but did not turn, he did not dispute the words. To Vin's surprise, Josiah chuckled, a deep rumbling that came from well within his broad chest.

"You might just be right on that one." His voice turned serious once more. "You don't seem a man to share burden's lightly, and I can't pretend I have any idea what might be troublin' you, but I can imagine how hard this must be on you... You've been undercover a long time with these guys and as gigs go, this one can't be a picnic..."

Vin's face remained neutral, not sure where Josiah was going with this. Larabee had obviously brought him in to make sure the paperwork was completed, but if the man was waiting for him to join in the conversation, he'd be waiting a long time. After a long moment he actually thought Josiah had decided to remain silent, so with a lingering, wary glance he looked back down to the papers, only to be interrupted again as the deep voice started up once more.

"I noticed your tattoo when you were over by the window before."

Vin flicked him a glance but kept reading while Josiah rolled up his shirtsleeve enough to show his forearm and turned his arm so that Vin could see a faded tattoo on the underside.

"Thought you might recognise this creature."

Vin glanced at the image held out to him and realised that he did indeed recognise it, although he wasn't sure of its meaning. Curiosity getting the better of him he lifted his head higher and took a better look. The many-headed snake curled around the skin of the massive arm, disappearing into the sides and rounding to the front. He was surprised, for Josiah had obviously recognised his own tattoo, of the same ancient Thai origin, something few rarely did. He was uncomfortable with the feeling of giving something of himself away, however little it was.

"Naga," he said after a long moment. _King snake._

Josiah nodded and Vin noticed that this turn in conversation had peaked Chris's own curiosity when he stepped towards them. He knew Josiah expected him to ask him about the significance of the creature, but remained silent, as was his way. People would reveal what they wanted to in time, and time was something he had plenty of at the moment, it seemed, trapped as he was in the hospital.

"Thai paintings and architecture often show the creature giving shelter, the coils a great cushion and the many heads like an umbrella."

Vin watched Josiah's innocent expression as he covered his artwork by rolling his sleeve back down and then looked up to Chris's slight frown. He had to admit he enjoyed keeping the smug Captain out of the loop for the moment. He obviously wanted to know what the connection was to Vin's own tattoo. He got the point clearly though, Josiah was showing him that he was ready to offer shelter, should it be required... and that

he knew more than Vin might think.

Josiah watched the younger man finally nod. He had not expected him to offer up any information regarding himself, but he thought maybe he had gotten his point through when he saw something thaw in the remarkable blue eyes. Chris had given him Vin's file and filled him in on the conversation he'd had with him earlier, but it had taken just one look at the wary but determined eyes glaring at him from the window to decide that Vin Tanner was a man who had fought through this world alone, and would continue on that way no matter the cost to himself if it meant getting where he wanted to be. Josiah had decided then and there that Tanner would be taking a different path, one that was not solitary, whatever resistance he might show.

For his part, Vin was back to trying to ignore the intense gaze beside him. The colossal man's words had caught him by surprise. There was nothing but sincerity and kindness in his voice and he was having a hard time dealing with it. He simply looked back down to the sheets of printed ink before him, not yet near ready to acknowledge their meaning. He did not know it then, but it was a turning point for him, the beginning of a realisation: he was not alone in this anymore.

"So you gonna sign those papers there or just stare at them all night?"

Vin took the pen Josiah offered him, looking up at Chris's frustrated face once more before signing his name in duplicate and handing the sheets back to Josiah without another word. Whatever doubts he might have had were pushed aside under the weight of Josiah's words, for the moment at least. Maybe they would regret their effort to persuade him somewhere down the track, but they had made their choice. He couldn't be responsible for that. Right now, he had some things to tell them, starting with the fact that Eddie was coming into the city and the town was about to be bombarded with bikers heading in for the funeral.

A half hour later, papers in hand and plans for the following day set, Josiah and Chris passed the same massive biker that Buck and JD had seen hanging around Vin's room earlier, heading straight for the elevator. The man actually made Josiah look small and Chris turned to nod at the agent he had posted at Vin's door, making sure he had his new agent covered. They entered the elevator alone and waited until the doors closed before speaking.

"Looks like JD was right, I think we did the right thing in heading down here when we did."

Chris nodded absently. "I think he was planning on pulling the pin on our deal."

"Yup," Josiah agreed. "Well, we've got him now, and if he's as good as you say he is, we're lucky to have him with us."

Chris nodded, he'd seen him in action himself, he had no doubts about his skill. "All we have to do is work on that attitude of his."

Josiah laughed at that and smiled at Chris's raised brow. He knew Chris long enough to have seen the similarity between the two men.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing…" At Chris's relentless stare he added. "I was just thinking how interesting it's going to be…"

The Captain's glare willed him to speak faster. "…having two men this stubborn on the same team."

Chris scowled at that. "You wouldn't be referring to me."

Josiah just smiled and a moment later Chris shook his head. "Stubborn ain't all he is." He waited another full minute before spitting out the question he'd been holding back. "What's the deal with the tattoo?"

Josiah smiled inwardly, knowing how much it had bugged Chris to have to ask. His frustration had been obvious since the conversation had come up. "I've seen fighters in Thailand who have tattoo's in that place under the arm. It's not for display, so much as a sign of attainment, the reaching of a high level of skill… It's also a sign of bravery, as that's a real painful part of the body to have needles stuck into if nothing else…"

Chris flinched, having already considered that point. "I didn't read anything about him being in Thailand in his files."

Josiah shrugged. "The tradition can also be found in other countries that study the art. Then again, I could be

completely wrong, it might have nothing to do with fighting."

"He might have been posted there with the marines," Chris thought aloud. He was silent as they walked, thinking this new information over and knowing there was much about Vin's background that he did not know. "And what's the connection to your snake-thing there?" He nodded to Josiah's arm, having peered at the design back in the hospital room.

"Naga," Josiah repeated the name of the snake king with patience.

"Yeah, I caught that..." there was an impatient quirk to his lips. "... and Vin's?"

Josiah went on as if having no idea about the impatience radiating from the man beside him. "Rajasi. It takes the form of a lion. The artwork looked incredible, I wouldn't mind having a closer look at it. I could only just make out the flames around the creatures body, it's what gave it away."

"And it's meaning?" he pressed, annoyed that he had to ask. Josiah could talk up a storm when he wanted to, so he knew the man was being vague on purpose.

"Well I can't speak for Vin's reasons for choosing it, but Rajasi is king of all mythical beasts, located high in the Himalayas and invisible to the eyes of mortals."

Chris gave a sceptical lift of his brow, not one for mythical creatures. He preferred the here and now to make believe.

"Just don't let me catch you two starting up a dungeons and dragons game in the office one day, or sticking pictures of dwarves around the place…" Still, he considered, it was another piece to the Tanner puzzle in place.

They stepped off the elevator to the first floor and Chris felt the folded paperwork in the inside pocket of his jacket. This was the beginning of something worthwhile, he felt that strongly. With the task that they had ahead of them in bringing down some of the leaders of the biggest biker gang in the country, stubbornness might just be the key.


	13. PART TWO The Home Fires' Burning

TWO.

**Part 13. The Home Fires' Burning**

_**7pm, Next Evening**_

Vin stared sightlessly out of the window of the old pickup, as oblivious to the flattened landscape that now whirled by as he had been hours before, when he'd first been driven out of the city. His body, although still aching and sore as it would be for some time, felt rested. He felt comfortable, clothed in his own worn jeans and faded navy t-shirt, his jacket having found its way back to him over the course of his stay in the hospital.

Now that he'd signed the papers, which had committed him to a city he knew little about and a team of men he knew even less, he had managed to stop wondering about how it had come about. Strangely, the ATF team was the only thing that seemed solid in the whole transformation that was sweeping him along it's wild path that led to the feet of just one man; his father.

He felt a stirring of anticipation at the thought of working with Larabee and his men, something he had not felt towards his work in a long, long time. Perhaps, when this was over, he could look forward to a fresh new direction in his career, if not his life. After hours and hours of circling through countless thoughts, it had finally come to him in the early hours of the morning; he'd been letting himself be swept along. It was time to get on with it again. If he allowed his thoughts to be filled with the man that had sent his life veering off course, he was giving him power. And that was one thing that he was not willing to do. It was time to use the new-found advantage that he was not working alone.

After discussing his plans to head out to the club's headquarters, he'd told Larabee he'd make contact within a few days, and he was going to make sure he used that time well.

"Gotta stop for gas."

He didn't turn his head from the window to look at Sugar, who had picked him up from the hospital. He was strangely glad that it was him driving him out to the next phase of his journey, as he now thought of it. Even though he knew the man was not the most settled of people, liable to snap to violence in the blink of an eye, at least it was someone he knew.

"You feelin' ok?"

Finally he looked from the darkening terrain and was surprised at the concern he saw in the hard, albeit aging, face. Up ahead he could see the lights of a solitary gas station, rising up against the flat land.

"Now that I'm outta that place." And he meant it.

"You haven't been out to the clubhouse before, have you."

Vin shook his head. "Not this one."

Sugar looked serious as he pulled into the station and stopped the car. He turned to Vin, no easy feat given his size and the close proximity of his chest to the large steering wheel.

"You watch yer back out there."

Vin frowned. This was unusual behaviour, to say the least. Sugar was just not a man to show open concern – to anyone. His voice was low and steady. "You sayin' I got trouble?"

The weathered face betrayed no emotion, the skin of his shaved head shining in the yellow neon light of the station and the artificial light reflecting in his eyes. "All I'm sayin' is, keep yer head down an' watch yer back."

For a moment Vin thought he was done, but he spoke again, the words not easily said. "Somethin's goin' on out here. It ain't like back home, these boys operate at another level an' they got their own agenda. You were right when you said they don't think of us as the brothers they should."

Vin said nothing, but Sugar wasn't done.

"I mean it. Watch yer back," he told him again. "Billy's… well, he's a loose cannon."

'_An' that ain't all he is...'_ "Why we headin' out there then? We could stay in the city 'til the funeral if we're not

welcome."

"Cos our boys have started turnin' up already. I'm just tellin' ya ta be careful 'til we get some more friendlies down here."

It was the frankest conversation he'd ever had with the man and he was disturbed by it, yet sensed he was required to contribute something.

"Ya know… when ya brought me inta this club, ya told me I was joinin' a brotherhood - don't much feel like it 'right now."

Sugar looked almost wistful. "Times've changed. Didn't used to be this in-fightin' like there is now. The men've gotten… _greedier_ somehow. Seems the club don't stand for all it used to." He sat up a little higher in his seat. "But to some of us it still matters. Eddie'll be here soon. He'll shake some of these boys out of their nests."

Vin was still surprised to hear that the club's overall president was coming to town. He didn't tend to move around much out of Texas these days, a man heading towards his late sixties as he was. He'd discussed with Larabee earlier that the club would have to sneak him over the border into the state. Edmund Alger was a man who was allowed into very few countries, his movements of great interest to authorities world wide. If he was coming to town, it meant there was something serious to tend to.

Larabee had been shocked at Vin's suggestion that they not react to his arrival when they'd spoken the day before in the hospital.

"Are you serious?" the Captain had asked him, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. After all, to knowingly let an infamous crime boss into your territory was crazy, as far as he could see.

"He's comin' here ta clean out the Chapter," he'd told him and Josiah both, trying to make them see. "Either he'll expose whatever they've got goin' on here and demand a cut, or he'll just shut 'em down. Either way, it's a chance ta see what they've got goin' on... There's a division startin' 'tween Denver an' the rest'a the country. Billy's gone too far, he's created his own entity an' pissed the rest of the club off. Eddie might just do our work for us an' take him out himself, if we give him enough lead."

What Vin didn't say is that he had been thinking about what Billy might be planning very carefully. If Billy was, in fact, looking to take Eddie out, then he himself might have some skills that he might consider handy. He was thinking perhaps it was time to play his sniper card, which until then he had kept carefully hidden.

Meanwhile Chris had been listening to Vin's words with just as much care. He hadn't brought him into the team to ignore the wisdom he could impart. Right then, the undercover agent knew a hell of a lot more than they did about what was going on in the club.

"Ya have ta trust me," Vin had said then, and in the face of everything that had been said in that room that day, they knew he was right.

"Alright. We'll handle this your way. But you'd better hope you know these men as well as you think you do or we're making one hell of a mistake opening our door to this guy. And I want frequent contact."

Vin had simply nodded, glad that they had decided to trust him. He'd met Eddie many a time, based in Texas as he had been, but the club veteran pretty much kept to himself, his days of hell-raising, free roving now pretty much gone. He'd settled into the role of an off-base leader with his tight knit of close friends that he had originally started the club with, mostly Vietnam veterans like himself. He still ruled over the club's activities, but his physical participation was not as high. He'd set himself up for easy retirement and together with his friends, was starting to live it early.

There were no guarantees, but he knew that Eddie's presence would shake things up to their advantage. It wouldn't hurt to have a man like him on their side, aiming to boot Billy from his throne. Now, sitting with Sugar in the deserted gas station, Vin wondered again about Eddie coming out in person. While

he would be glad to see Billy taken down, this wasn't a scenario he was going to allow to happen. In his mind, there was only one way Billy was going to go down - and it was going to be by his hand.

"There's somethin' else you need to know."

He brought his attention back to Sugar as a frown came to his face, puckering the tape above his eye. In all the time he'd known Sugar, the man had never looked so concerned. It was starting to unnerve him.

"By now they would've worked out it was me that got ya off the hook with the girl."

Vin looked at him sharply. Had that girl really been assaulted, only to be silenced by Sugar?

"I did what needed to be done." Seeing Vin's expression he frowned. "What, you'd prefer to be sittin' in jail awaitin' a trial?"

_No, but I'd prefer the truth to come out..._"I'd jist been wonderin' what happened to change her mind, now I guess I know. But silencin' her's one thing, what about the evidence?"

Sugar smiled. "I got my ways." His face darkened again. "I'm tellin' ya this 'cos I know Billy'll be pissed about it. You were set ta take that rap, an that's a fact."

Vin swore and rested his head back on the seat. So it was true. But why? He turned his head to the side to look at Sugar, wanting to see his reaction. "Jist cos I's the only Texan handy?"

"That's probably part of it. I reckon he doesn't think ya did enough at the shootin' walkin' away like ya did."

Vin's eyes sharpened. Did Sugar think the same thing? "What the hell would've made 'em happy, if I'd died too?"

Even while it explained things, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it. Decker's words were still clear in his mind, reminding him that there was someone out there who didn't want him around, who had wanted him out of the picture before he'd come to Denver. If Larabee got a whiff of that piece of information he would be pulled out so fast his head would spin.

"This thing with Decker, how far did it go?" Sugar asked then, as if reading his mind and again Vin was unable to hide his surprise.

He thought hard and fast. Could he trust Sugar? For all he knew, it was _him_ trying to take him down. He shrugged as if he hadn't thought about it. "He always had it in fer me, but this had nothin' ta do with him, 'less he set it up 'fore he died."

"He's got a lot of friends up here… And he's got a brother."

Vin didn't know Decker's brother Judd, but he'd heard about him. Another wild card. He realised Sugar was studying him intently.

"What?"

The heavy man leant forward. "You tellin' me everythin'? I can't be no help if you don't open yer mouth and it'll be too late when I'm ridin' `hind yer fun'ral box."

Again Decker's voice spoke in his head. _'Should have killed you when I had the chance… like they wanted me to…' _No. He couldn't trust anyone with this, not even Sugar, the man who had vouched for him and that he'd known longer than anyone else in the club. He shrugged again, affecting indifference.

"I never knew what his problem was with me."

Knowing Vin was holding back, Sugar leant back anyway. "Fine, but it's gonna get crazy as hell in the next few days." As he manoeuvred his frame out the door he left a parting shot. "So don't piss anyone else off `til we get outta this town. I know you were set on stayin' here a while, fucked if I know why... but yer gettin yer ass back ta Texas after the funeral."

Vin said nothing, not wanting to think that far ahead, knowing that a lot could happen in the course of a week. A moment later he was listening to the sound of the pump churning fuel into the big tank, the smell of the petrol invading the air, as he thought over Sugar's warning. Jake had set him up at the motel, the cops had come straight for him in the back room, as far as he'd found out, which made him think again of Levitz. Just what was his part in all this?

He caught his reflection in the side mirror and reached out an arm to turn the stubborn, rusted metal more toward his face, examining the cut above his eye and removing the small white tape in one movement, wincing at the tug it gave his skin. To his relief, it didn't start to bleed again, but he didn't want to be sporting bandages when he turned up at the clubhouse.

He was readjusting the mirror when a car pulled into the station, on the other side of the single pump. The station wagon held a family of four, obviously on vacation, judging by all of the belongings stacked in the back and tied to the roof. A man got out from behind the wheel and cast a weary eye at Sugar, quickly getting back in his car to wait until they had left, obviously wanting to avoid any trouble with the giant man.

Vin studied the car without thinking about it, his eyes finding two sets of brown ones peering at him from the back seat with open curiosity. He smiled at the childrens' expressions, before realising he was being studied by the woman in the front seat, who was now frowning at him. No doubt she was curious too, about the appearance of two rough-looking men who just might be up to no good – however, adult assumptions overrode curiosity, as did fear, and he could not blame them for staying in the car. If he had a family, he would want to protect them too, at all cost, from people like them.

He glanced at Sugar's profile, now inside the wide glass window of the run down station, paying for their fuel. Trying to look at him objectively he realised he really was one mean looking son of a bitch, but it was more in the grooming than anything else. In a different life, he could just be a large, middle-aged man paying for his gas. Maybe even have a family of his own waiting in a car, instead of one beaten up biker trying to stay awake on a long drive. He put his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes, thinking that when he got in touch with Larabee, he needed to mention Levitz again. Right now though, he had a more pressing matter. Where he was headed was not safe – and he was going there without backup.

He was almost asleep by the time Sugar got back in and closed his door with a heavy thud. There was nothing he could do but go along for now but even so, he felt a growing sense of urgency.

..

Chris looked up as Ezra and Josiah entered his office.

"I thought you were taking a few days," he nodded towards Eza's still bandaged arm.

"I figure if Mr Tanner can resume his active duty, than I am more than fit for the challenge." He took the seat opposite Chris at the cluttered desk. "Intel says the club is gatherin' here, just as we expected, for the funeral procession. The club's liaison officer," he gave this title with a hefty measure of sarcasm, "has asked for a police escort for the event. Levitz is requestin' there be roadblocks at the main street junctions and around a hundred officer's on duty to watch for trouble, which of course he fully expects."

Chris nodded thoughtfully. He had anticipated as much. "We need to meet with Levitz, I don't want the police inciting a riot. Last thing we need is some sort of Hollister party going down."

Ezra nodded. He knew the biker's would not respond well to police in full riot gear plaguing the burial of their

brothers.

"Murphy's perimeter is in place," Josiah informed him. Standard procedure ensured checkpoints at all major arteries into the state, looking for anything suspicious – but weapons and drugs in particular. It was also a good opportunity to search for anyone who might have a warrant against their name. "So far he's had nothing more than a few knives and some dope confiscated."

"Any sign of Alger?"

Josiah shook his head. "Nothing so far. Even though we know to look for him, he's still going to be one slippery son of a bitch."

"I expect to hear from Vin by tomorrow." _'I'd better hear from him by tomorrow.' _"He might have something for us. I want all of us there, in one form or another."

"Mitri has asked that I go with him, his presence is expected and he thinks it would be good for me to see what we are up against. It's a good way to get close, security is going to be extremely tight."

"Alright. The rest of us will have to hang back, or come up with some pretty tight covers, we've all been seen around the hospital. Until then, keep me informed if you hear anything."

As they left the office Chris sat back in his chair, giving a slight shake of his head. He'd hardly been in his job two months and already he was dealing with one of the largest gatherings of bikers the country had seen in years. Wilson hadn't lied when he'd said he'd be in the thick of things here. Still, it might have been nice if he hadn't of been thrown into it quite so soon.

..

It looked like a scene from hell, something from the realm of a Mad Max movie. Vin realised that the unidentifiable skull on the wooden stake, that marked the turnoff to the dirt road, should have given him a good indication of what to expect as he took in the view now before him.

The bumpy road had been jarring and he was tired and uncomfortable by the time they arrived at the massive, fort-styled wall that stretched a good distance in either direction. The only entrance was a manually operated steel gate, giving the unmistakable impression that this was a fortress well protected, and not a place easily entered by the expected, let alone the uninvited.

The 'soldiers' at the gate gave them thorough inspection, particularly Vin, whom they had not met before, before they were allowed to enter the long, straight drive through the darkness to the spattering of lights up ahead. As they got closer, Vin realised the lights were fires, lit around the outside of a massive building. The abating rain had allowed the men to light wood in cut oil drums, giving both heat and light, as well as the means to barbecue meat.

The ground was sodden from the endless days of rain, pools of water making the earth muddy and treacherous to navigate. There were trees everywhere, providing a degree of cover from the sky, with wrecks of cars and unidentifiable machinery littering the massive grounds. It was not these things, however, that concerned Vin. It was the sheer number of men that were occupying the massive space, oblivious to the poor weather and the dirty, waterlogged ground. Dirty, unkempt, burly looking men, made the place look like a war camp, or a gathering of foot-soldiers ready for deployment, _and he should know._ All the while they drove at their slow pace, dark looks followed their path. As they passed, conversations halted briefly and looks were exchanged. Some were simply wary of the new arrival, but others knew who was in the car.

It was not Vin they were wary of, it was Sugar, the club enforcer. His was a position of great power. It was thought to be a good thing to have not met the man face to face, for that would most likely mean pain and punishment.

At this attention Sugar said nothing, aware of the men's dark scrutiny, but well used to it. As the truck hit a pothole sharply, Vin gave a harsh grunt of pain, his hand gripping the door to steady his ride. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and catch some real sleep but knew there was no chance of that happening,

at least not for a while yet. Further in, toward the side of the building, there was a race going on. Two at a time, naked Harley's were battering it out around a torn, dirt track, churning deep ruts in the ground and spraying mud back over an excited crowd of betting men. Directly before the building stood a squared-off space, around which yet another large crowd of men cheered on as two shirtless, bloodied fighters stood toe to toe, slogging it out with little finesse, swapping punch for brutal punch.

This was a scene Vin was familiar with, it being the very way that he had earned his stripes in his early days with the club. It was not surprising that Sugar parked not far from the make-shift ring, lured as he always was by the scent of a good fight in the air, not to mention the blood of battling men.

"Jake'll be here somewhere."

_And Billy_… Vin's heart picked up its pace as he climbed out of the car slowly, using the door to support himself. He took several slow breaths, knowing it was way too early to be getting ahead of himself. His keen eyes took in every detail, every unfamiliar face, of which there were countless.

"I'll see you in a bit. Then I'll be heading back to town, I've got some business to take care of before I come back out here."

He had to find Decker's brother Judd, was what he was talking about, but did not tell Vin. The man had been ordered to report in asap, but so far no-one had heard from him.

Hiding his quick alarm at the prospect of walking this battleground alone, Vin nodded to Sugar as he watched him walk off, the big man no longer concerned, it seemed, for his welfare. He decided his first course of action would be to locate his bike, hoping Sugar had told him the truth back at the hospital when he'd told him it was out here. Moving cautiously but, he hoped, casually he made his way toward the side of the massive building, where he could see a veritable parking lot of Harleys. As he walked he took in the men he passed with no expression, always keeping an eye out for a familiar face, and was relieved when he made it to the parking area without incident. His eyes searched the long lines of black and chrome, with the occasional show of colour in between, looking for his ride, hoping it was there for it would at least give him a way back to town if he needed one in a hurry.

Then, from a short distance, he heard his name called from the shadows and turned to see the outlines of four men standing beneath a light that was casting a dim glow down to a small part of the building. Peering into the low light he could make out that they were drinking beer against a high wall, standing amongst the frontline of the motorcycles, black wheels all pointing toward them as if in attack. His heart automatically picked up its pace as he prepared for whatever he might be faced with.

"Told ya it was him," he heard a voice say. "If his bike's here, there's no way he'd be too far from it."

"You gonna come over here, or you gonna make us come to you?"

Vin paused at the childlike taunt, the first hint of recognition lighting his eyes.

"Dinnae make me walk in the state ahm in sonny, I'm tellin' ye'!"

And with that voice, a smile lit Vin's face. He knew that thick brogue, a bizare mix of Scottish and Texan slang and now that he was a little calmer, he realised he knew the familiar outline of the four men taunting him. Familiar shapes to match familiar faces, and ones he knew well.

"Think I'll keep m'distance if it's all the same ta ya'll," he called out. "Wouldn't trust you bastards not ta rob me fer a dime."

"That so? There's a challenge if ever I heard one. Come on over here so I can stick my boot in yer ass."

"There you go with the ass again… You always gotta say you're gonna stick somethin' in somebodies ass," came the sound of another voice.

Vin laughed as he closed the distance to the men, finding relief in the familiar sound of their bickering. His

movements were deliberate, yet fluid. It would do no good to show the world how bad off he was at that moment, be it friend or foe in his sight.

"You shut yer mouth, ya greasy bastard, before I stick my boot in yer face."

"Bring it on old timer."

"Old timer?!"

"Well howdy, boys," Vin cut in, stepping into their small circle of light. "Fancy meetin' ya'll in a place like this."

At a glance, these men were recognisable, as mismatched in height and build as they all were. With greater relief, he now saw that they were gathered around his bike, even as they each looked him up and down. He placed a hand almost reverently to the cold metal of his fuel tank. In another time and place, the gesture could of been that of a man to the neck of his horse, so easy and familiar was the touch as he took comfort in the feel of his own means of escape beneath his hand.

"Jesus, they weren't lyin' when they said ya got busted up some more."

Vin smiled at the frankness of a man he'd known as long as he had Keg. Bruce was an unfortunately short man who fancied himself like the warrior `The Bruce' from the movie Braveheart, but being a little under five foot five, he had a hard time trying to convince anyone of the likeness. He then looked at the remaining three. The four men were inseparable, and had been for as long as Vin had known them. He truly liked them, and enjoyed their company. The four of them were as good-natured as they came, and if you could forget that they were active participants in running guns and drugs across the country, you could almost fool yourself into thinking that they were good men. Almost.

"Well now, I heard the fella's up here don't take a likin' to us men comin' up and showin' their women the real thing. Reckon our boy here mighta gotten that pretty face a'his stuck in the wrong door."

Vin took the taunting and accompanying slap on the back with a smile. Michael "Rizzo" Risopolous always had a knack for injecting lightness, no matter the heat of the situation and he was thankful for it right then. Of Greek descent, he was the only man Vin knew of that had a family bigger than the size of Texas, yet still chose to live a life far removed from his upbringing. Some men were just destined to be bikers, he thought.

"We couldnae fuckin' believe it when we heard aboot Keg."

Vin's lip curled in response to Ivan's words, but said nothing, knowing they had more to say. Skinny Ivan had a way of speaking that always made him smile, whether he was talking about the evening news or telling one of his long-winded, famous stories. Everyone liked the man, it was impossible not to. It was probably what got him his way into the club, when rarely did anyone not of US origin get the vote. The fact that he was called `Skinny' Ivan had nothing to do with his build, for he was actually quite a big man. Rather, there was another member of the club named Ivan who was almost seven foot tall and had the width to match, and so was commonly referred to as `Big' Ivan.

"Is it true? What they're sayin?" Cheese, the final member of the small group added, his reddish brown hair catching in the light from above. Vin had never known why he was called the particularly strange name, and wasn't sure that he wanted to either.

Satisfied his bike was as he'd last seen it he stepped closer to them, within their close circle and hooked his thumbs through his belt. "Depends on what they're sayin'." He said in his usual quiet drawl.

"That Decker was fried, brought all the cops out firin', brought Keg down by startin' a riot," Rizzo supplied, his olive face deadly serious. They were angry about Keg, he was one of their close friends and had been for a long, long time. They were going to miss him and in turn, they wanted payback. Someone was responsible here.

"Sounds about right," Vin confirmed, not elaborating.

Cheese spoke in a whispered voice. "An' they're sayin' ya ran when the bullets started flyin'..."

Vin just shook his head as he looked at them in turn. "Ya'll believe that?"

"None of us believes that," Rizzo said, holding in the smoke he'd just sucked in from the ever-present pipe in his hand, "we just thought you should know what these Denver pricks are sayin'."

Vin nodded after a moment. "S'good, cos the bullet I took came from front on."

"No one said ya got shot," Cheese said in surprise.

He gave a bitter smile. "Sounds like they ain't sayin' much of anythin' useful."

Skinny Ivan nodded to the bruises and cuts on Vin's face. "Ye git intae it wi `im again?"

"He didn't come out there ta dance."

"Sonofabitch. What was it with you two anyway?" Cheese said, taking the pipe Rizzo offered him. Like most people, he didn't understand what Decker's problem had been with Vin.

"Bastard got what he deserved," Rizzo added.

"He was a wanker." Ivan agreed.

"Not to mention the most ubiquitous prick I ever knew."

Bruce groaned in time with the rest of them. "Fuck sakes Rizzo."

"Ubi-what?" Cheese asked, holding his lighter over the cone of the pipe.

Bruce put his arm around Vin's shoulders. "Don't mind him, he's on a mission to read the dictionary, startin' at the back. Every day he picks a different word an' drive's us fuckin' nuts with it 'til he thinks he's committed it to his bony head."

"Ya'll wont be laughin' when I start cashin' in on my superior command of the English language."

"And you won't be laughin' when I stick that fuckin' dictionary up your ass."

"And again with the ass... Bruce, I dinnae ken yer infatuation with asses. Yer startin' tae worry me."

Vin chuckled at that, just the slight movement of his chest and the humour in his eyes giving it away until he forced himself to be still, his ribs screaming a protest that brought him up short. These four clowns never failed to make him laugh and he had to admit, it had been a while.

"Even if you knew every word there was to know in the language, what use would it be?" Bruce continued.

"He'd kick ass in Scrabble," Vin supplied.

Rizzo jumped on that, pointing animatedly at Vin as he looked smugly at the rest of them. "See?!"

"You'll never remember every word," Cheese told his friend, giving him a pitying shake of his head as he handed the pipe back for re-packing.

"No, but I'm expanding my mind," Rizzo defended, pulling his stash from his pocket. "Maybe I won't be able to recite them all, but they'll be in my memory, somewhere, if I keep using 'em enough."

"Yeah, hangin' out with the rest'a yer brain somewhere around your -"

"_Ass_?" Vin finished for Bruce.

Bruce grinned. "'xactly."

"Rizzo, I love ye like the crazy bastard ye are... but yer a wee daft cunt if ya think yer gonna remember the whole fuckin' book," Ivan said, chuckling now too.

"With all that shit you smoke, if you can even remember the word you picked out yesterday I'll kiss your hairy ass." Bruce said with a straight face.

This made Ivan's chuckle turn to a loud and sharp laugh with Cheese spurting beer out loudly beside him. The auburn-haired man opened his mouth to reveal the answer just as Bruce clamped a solid hand over it, silencing him before he could say yesterday's word out loud before Rizzo had a chance to think about it.

"Well?" he asked the frowning Greek.

Rizzo's face affected nonchalance as he packed the cone, struggling to grasp the word that he had used at least twenty times before breakfast the day before. "I don't have to prove anythin' to you..."

"Told ya," Bruce said with a smug grin. "Waste'a time."

"Ah udderly agree with ye..."

"_Hey_!"

"That's it! _Udder_!" Rizzo said triumphantly with a huge grin.

"Nice one Ivan," Cheese said, shaking his head, moving off to grab more beers.

Ivan scratched his chin. "We'll, ah's gonnae say 'check out the milk-secretin' organs on that lass o'er thair'... but I couldnae find a woman tae point tae..."

"He wouldn't have gotten that anyway," Bruce decided.

"So..." Rizzo made a grab for his jeans, to which Bruce merely grinned.

"Monkey-boy, when someone actually finds your ass underneath all that hair, we'll talk."

They laughed at Rizzo's indignation until Bruce changed the subject back to its original topic.

"Ya know, we're hearin' other things, too..."

As he watched their faces sober, Vin wondered how much they knew. News travelled fast in the club. He turned to Bruce with a questioning look as tension once again crept into the conversation.

"...We heard ya got set up for that rape charge. We heard it mighta been Judd."

Vin shrugged slightly at that, as if it wasn't important. "Then you've heard as much as me." He looked at them

intently. "Unless there's more..."

But they shook their heads and Skinny Ivan clipped Vin on the shoulder again.

"But we aim tae find oot. 'N whin wi git the prick, ah's gonnae pit um oantay the fuckin' train-track, endy fuckin' story."

"Seriously, when you gonna learn American, all these years I still don't know what the fuck you're saying to me," Rizzo said, effectively breaking the newly found tension of the conversation.

"Ah wisnae talking tae you, ya wide bastard, pipe doon fur I punt yir skanky wee ass oot the door as wil – fuckin' dismissal joab ahm tellin' you."

But Ivan's stern expression lasted all of a second in the face of the loud laughter that accompanied the colourful onslaught, just as he expected it to.

"Ain't you lucky we showed up to cover yer ass, ay ' Hangman'?"

Vin tilted his head to the sky in a show of prayer at the sound of the hated nickname that only fight promoters, and wankers, ever used. "Lucky me," he muttered.

Cheese returned and passed out the beers that were tucked in his arms. Vin took one, knowing he shouldn't drink for a multitude of reasons and taking a hefty swig anyway. It was so cold that his throat hurt, but it tasted like heaven.

"Damn, Cheese, ya dig down to Antarctica fer these or what?" Rizzo complained, grinding his teeth against the sudden freezing pain as Ivan clutched his head to stop the brain freeze.

"You said the last one was too hot! I can't win with you fuckers!" Cheese scowled as they all drank in silence for a moment.

"What's been goin' on back home?" Vin asked, knowing they'd have more stories to tell and feeling relaxed in their circle.

A large cheer went on a short distance away and they turned to see that a man's arm was on fire, to the great amusement of the men around him. He managed to put it out and they resumed their conversation, not seeing anything particularly unusual about the event.

"Well, Cheese went and got himself married," Rizzo informed Vin eagerly, to which Cheese gave Rizzo a warning glare.

"That so..." Vin asked, taking in another refreshing mouthful of beer and settling in for a story.

"Yeah… But now he's separated - cos he found out the bitch was his cousin!"

Vin smiled as Cheese called Rizzo all manner of names over his shoulder, on his way over to a nearby tree to relieve himself, but obviously not upset by the story as he called out behind him.

"Don't you be talkin' `bout my wife like that, you bastard! Where's your bike…"

"You piss on my bike it'll be the last time you take a piss, son."

Vin found himself grinning again, even though some distant bed was calling him. At least it would be entertaining in the meanwhile, with these boys to take his mind off things.

..

From the third story window, the pale eyes of Warren Lance looked down to the ground below, not moving from the silhouetted form of Vin Turner for a second as he held a phone to his ear in his long, pale fingers.

"Yeah he's here, he's definitely here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure," was the snapped reply. He was already over his friend's vendetta against Turner. The heat was starting to get to him. He tugged a hand through his tangled beard in frustration.

Judd Lidlow remained silent for a moment, picturing the man he hated with a fierce passion. The recent loss of his brother choked him like a fist of pain that tightened around his throat until he felt he was being strangled.

"We gotta wait," Warren informed him, sensing his friend's rage down the line. "An' he ain't goin' anywhere. The girls' dropped the charges so you can head out if ya want. Ride out tonight, the whole damn club's lookin' for you now anyway."

Judd smiled at that, but it was a cold, bitter smile. "No. I'll wait out here. He won't be leavin' this city any time soon. I come out there I'll do somethin' I'll regret."

Warren shook his head, he knew what his friend meant. Tanner wouldn't be leaving the city at all. He peered down again at the man taking a swig of beer below and silently raised his own bottle to the window, tapping it against the cold glass in a toast to his health, short may it be.


	14. A Man's Vision

**Part 14. A Man's Vision**

Vin knew he needed to find a place to sleep or he was going to fall down and was just about to make a move when Charlie found them.

"Well hey boys, guess this means my babysittin' job's over."

Vin had already noticed the approach of the massive man, whom he hadn't seen since the hospital. He wasn't easy to miss given the size of his frame, but the rest of the boys were surprised.

"Charlie! Where ya been? Ya took off without a word, we didn't even know you'd gone," Rizzo said, clanging his beer to his friend's bottle.

Charlie smiled, his assortment of heavy rings catching in the light as he saluted Vin with his beer and nodded to show his words were directed at him. "Had some Secret Sugar business." He looked closer at his face. "You look worse."

Vin smiled at the comment. "Thanks," he said, not knowing what he meant exactly by 'secret Sugar business.'

"Hell, when've ya ever seen Turner _not_ beaten ta shit?" Bruce said, laughing.

"Aye, the lad's like ah fuckin' magnet fir a fist."

Vin changed the subject back. "What's that mean, 'Secret Sugar business?"

But Charlie didn't have much for him. "Just what I said, secret business, of Sugar's. Came to me out of the blue an' told me he wanted me to head out with him to come here. He didn't say why, but it wasn't long after you'd left that he came out with it..."

Vin frowned and then looked around at the men around him as they seemed to share a knowing look. "I miss

somethin' here?"

It was Cheese that enlightened him. "You sayin' ya never noticed the way he looks out for ya?"

Vin's face showed his confusion. He looked at them all, seeing they were serious. "Looks _out_ fer me..? Sugar looks out fer no one," he denied. _What the hell were they on about?_

"Right," Bruce said sarcastically. "He always walks away from his job when he's payin' out on someone."

"He handed me over to Decker. It would have been better comin' from him."

Cheese shook his head. "Yeah but he stepped out, he's never done that before... an' hell, he's always checkin' up on ya. Every time ya fight he's practically in the ring next ta ya."

"That might be 'cause he's his fuckin' trainer," Bruce shot Cheese down.

Vin just shook his head, taking another drink. "Ya'll are nuts." But their words were bothering him. This was

something they had obviously discussed before. Had he missed something?

"Yep, that's why he made me haul my ass at top speed all the way here ta back ya up."

Vin turned his frown on the big man, giving his head a slight shake, showing he still didn't understand.

"He knew somethin' was up. I don't know exactly what's goin' on, or what happened that night, but he definitely knew somethin' was goin' down, cos he headed out on yer trail like a bat outta hell... draggin' me behind him."

"Ya think he knew Decker was gonna go after him?" Rizzo asked, his frown matching Vin's.

Charlie shrugged. "Told ya, I know jack about jack. I _do_ know it's been too long 'tween beers." He held up his empty bottle. "My shout," he said and turned to head off, before stopping suddenly and turning back. "Oh yeah, and it might have somethin' ta do with the new team the cop's've put together to shut the chapter down up here."

Vin nearly choked on his beer.

"I thought they pulled back on that shit after that Fed bust went wrong," Rizzo thought out loud.

But Charlie just shrugged. He was the king of gossip, but he rarely had in-depth details, he just paid attention to the juicy bits. "I just know what I hear. There's a new team started up an' Billy's on a mission ta head 'em off 'fore they get started. Heard he's already planned somethin' big." He winked at them and grinned. "An' I heard they're ATF."

Vin watched the big man go, his throat suddenly dry as the men around him spoke words of surprise that a new team had been put together. Now their words were serious and hushed.

"They must be up to a hell of a lot more shit than we know about up here if they're gettin' this kinda heat," Bruce said.

"Aye, but Eddie ken's what they're up tae."

"Reckon he does," Vin added. "Sugar said he'd be here soon."

"Yeah," Bruce said, "he was makin' plans ta move out when we left."

"There's been talk about him comin' down on these guys for a while now," Rizzo said. "I reckon they've gotten too big for 'emselves. He's probably just usin' the funeral as an excuse to come here."

Vin listened to the talk, his brain in overdrive. The club knew about the team... how the hell could they know that unless someone had leaked it? He instantly thought of Levitz again, one man who had both the knowledge and the gripe with Larabee to have passed on the information. And why would Sugar ride out before even knowing about the trouble that had gone down at the club? He didn't buy any of the crap that he was looking out for him, the guys were obviously reading into something that wasn't there. He had to speak to Larabee, _tonight_.

"Where're ya'll bunkin' tonight?" he cut into the conversation, needing to get away.

"We're gonna camp out here, brought our gear with us," Bruce told him, nodding to his bike not far away, which had a bedroll tied to the handlebars. "There's a big porch 'round the back and an' empty shed. Reckon you'll find somethin' inside to steal for the night to keep warm if you take a look."

Vin nodded. "I'll check it out."

"I'll come with you," Rizzo offered, not liking what Charlie had told them. Vin had been through a lot in the last months and things just didn't add up. It was like someone had it in for him and he didn't think it stopped at Decker.

"Nah, I wanna speak with Sugar `fore he takes off, be back in a bit," he said lightly, then stopped as he half-turned to leave. "What's it mean, anyway... yer word fer the day?"

"Jesus don't encourage him," Bruce said with a grimace.

But Rizzo just grinned. "It means 'seemingly everywhere at once,'" he informed him. Truth be told he had started the dictionary thing with the noble intention of expanding his vocabulary, but had quickly become bored with it. Now he just kept going because he knew it pissed them off - and that alone would get him through to the end of the expanded pocket version he kept in his saddle bag.

Vin went around to the front of the building and checked the signal on his phone, not really expecting to find any service so not disappointed when there wasn't any.

"Upstairs," a voice said to him.

He looked up to see a man sitting on the ground, playing tug-of-war with a dirty mongrel of a dog, not more than a pup.

"What's that?" he asked him, not recognising him.

The man looked up briefly and pointed up at the building. "Upstairs... the only place your phone'll work."

Vin nodded his thanks and took a moment to look at the open front doors spilling light out into the crowd of men hanging around the steps. He knew what he might find within those doors, but calling Larabee with what he'd heard was important enough to take the chance.

He took a breath and headed up the front steps, stepping past the men and into the double doors, finding himself immediately consumed by the floodlit entrance and finding that there were more people inside than out, or so it seemed. The place was packed with men and women alike. None of the women wanted to be outside on such a miserable night. Nobody seemed to notice him as he slipped amongst them. Most of them were weaving on their feet, laughing crazily or lounged around chilling out on various pieces of furniture. He eyed a massive staircase and decided to follow it up, stepping over bodies both prone and still moving. Half way up to the first floor, using the wrought iron railing to ease the pressure on his knee, he came across a man with his pants down, rolling about with a naked, loudly groaning woman. He had to use the railing to climb over the two of them to get past.

As he manoeuvred himself around them he felt a hand grab his leg and looked down at two glazed eyes that peered at him through dark frames of blurred make-up.

"Wanna join in?" she asked with a rapt smile, her lipstick long disappeared.

"Not tonight you don't," her lover growled, turning her face back toward him, obviously fed up with her insatiable appetite.

Vin kept on up the stairs. He pulled his phone out and saw that it still had no signal and decided to head higher, determined now to contact Larabee before he got some sleep. No time like the present, with everyone as preoccupied as they were.

He headed up to the third floor, the highest level, hoping higher ground might give him some reception to at least send a text message to his new Captain, and found himself wondering against his will just where inside the massive house he might find Billy…

Reaching the top of the stairs he stopped for a moment, winded and pressing a hand to his side to hold the

increasing pain at bay, eyeing the closed doors that lined the hallway and hearing murmurs and voices from all directions. The place was a warren of doors and corridors. Looking at his phone again he saw it now had one flickering bar of reception and cursed, eyeing a large balcony at the end of the hallway with big French doors leading outside. Cautiously he crept up the hall and then tried the door, finding it open and stepping out silently into the moist air, careful on the slick tiles as he headed for the railing. From here he could see the entire expanse of the property below, with all of its scatterings of activity. Turning back to the doors as he reached the rail, he saw dark shadows looming on either side of the opening and suddenly knew it had been a mistake to come out there.

Too late he realised that he was not alone.

Before he could move, a low voice drifted to him from the darkness on his left.

"Well you're a long way from home."

His heart missed a beat as he watched the sultry figure move out into the light, her lips a knowing curl of liquid red and her wide eyes soaking him in. His eyes ran the length of her lean, toned figure, clad only in a tight, silky black concoction of lace that barely covered her skin. Jesus, she was in the sexiest lingerie he had yet to see, and he'd seen his fair share.

"Well now," he said, still rocking on his feet but his voice deadly even, "I thought I _was_ home, this bein' the house of a brother an' all."

Suzy smiled, pushing her leg off the wall behind her and stepping forward. "I don't know that the invitation extends to his private floor."

She took a step closer, still smiling at him, but for the first time Vin noticed a warning in her eyes and watched as her blue gaze darted to the shadow that remained by the other door.

"Mi casa's everyone's casa, darlin', you know how it works… right Turner?" said a dry, deep voice from the shadows.

Vin felt the ground roll beneath him, totally unprepared for the moment now at hand. After all of his planning, his daydreaming, his scheming, it had come before him with no warning. Thoughts of sleep fled and adrenaline surged through his veins in the wake of the voice he had not heard in twenty-two long years, now seemingly passed in the blink of a hurried eye.

"You can go now," Billy directed Suzy and held her look until she turned and left, eyes lingering one last moment on Vin's form before re-entering the house through the doors.

Billy's eyes moved back to the man standing before him.

"You lost?" his voice grated quietly, not menacing, merely unnerving in its dispassion.

Vin tried with everything he had to control his breathing, but twenty-two years was a damn long time to plan a

moment, and it was suddenly crashing forward to catch him up, pummelling him with an intensity that rendered him incapable of thought, let alone speech. He wanted to laugh, cry, scream, lunge out and strangle the sonofabitch standing before him all at once, all the while his eyes were frantically drawing in the sight of him. He didn't know where the voice came from, was not aware he had spoken until the words had fallen away between them.

"Not any more."

If the Club President was curious about Vin's reply, his face did not reflect his thoughts. His long-tanned, weathered features remained impassive, calm and completely unreadable, made all the more sharp by the pull of his long, straight, almost black hair into a tight band at the back of his neck. He had a look about him that clearly told the world not to bother him unless it was a life and death situation – and even then, you were taking a risk. Still, they stared at each other in the silence, both measuring, weighing, whilst the sounds of the men below rose up from the ground along with the cinders of the fires to dissipate softly into the night sky.

Snatches of laughter, the sounds of the bikes racing around the other side of the building, the cheering men watching the fight below, were all dulled murmurings that were beyond the edge of the sharp reality that Vin Tanner now faced. For countless seconds the newly recruited ATF agent stood motionless, the air seeming so still that he thought perhaps time had frozen around him as the shock of coming face to face with his father took hold. He felt more alive than he could remember feeling in a long, long time and yet unable to move a step. Somehow, he was drawing air, as thick and as charged as it was all around him, it was still somehow getting into his lungs. There was no effort on his part to do this, for he had forgotten the simple necessities of life, such as breathing, in the face of the magnitude of the moment. His world was becoming a blurred kaleidoscope, with his father at the centre before him, in perfect focus, yet not real to his unblinking eye.

How long he stood there he could not be sure, though later he thought that Billy would not have endured a man staring at him blankly, as he imagined he had been, for long. After countless seconds, his blood began a desperate charge back into his pale cheeks, flushing them with a steady stream of inevitable anger as if responding to some unconscious war cry that was emitted from his awakened soul. Heat scoured through his chilled veins until suddenly his heart was hammering out a beat so fast that it began to overpower him, his senses returning with a violent awakening.

Now his hands itched for action, for retribution. Billy looked like he was going to speak and Vin's mind raced with the possibilities of what his words might be. For another frightening moment, he had the urge to step forward and take a swing at him, one crushing blow, for his mother, the one instinct that seemed constant within his turbulent heart. He went so far as to envision the feel of the impact slamming into his tight fist, the noise of the thud sounding true as his knuckles rammed into the tissue and meat of the face now only a short step beyond his reach… He knew, if he did that, that he would not be able to stop there, that one punch would never suffice. Still, his fury was not easily swallowed; it sat high in his chest, mounting with each second that passed, causing his jaw to clench tight and his eyes to remain hard and fierce in the light from the doorway. His fists were clenched with holstered rage and he suddenly prayed that whatever the man had to say, it was not the wrong thing, for both of their sakes.

He almost wished now for the numbness to return, so strong were the feelings that were running through him. The silence stretched and still Vin stood, his body pent up with energy, forcing his mind to reel through his whirling emotions, finally transforming them into coherent thoughts.

Billy had changed, was his first realisation. He'd aged, although he had never considered that consequence of the passage of time before. In his mind, he had carried an image that was now clashing with the picture before him. His father had always been big, but in a child's view he had seemed so much the bigger. Huge, black boots with gleaming buckles, massive legs that could kick out as fast as lightening across seemingly unreachable distances to catch you out. He remembered his fists to be like mighty clubs, that struck out with unchecked force, before any words were ever spoken in anger or there was any hint that the blow was about to come, or what might have caused it.

His keen blue gaze took in every detail, bridging the gap of two decades past, while the dark eyes before him blinked back with unassuming calm. The hair and beard were the same and from his rolled up sleeves, he could see the tattoos that ran the course of his body from neck to foot. His arms were still well muscled and his clothes sat tight across his built chest, but were not so dirty and unkempt now. Billy had bettered himself, it would seem, or had upped his living standards at least. He was cleaner, more sharply dressed, but to Vin's widening eyes, he was still lower class scum, merely playing the role that he had always aspired to, letting nothing and no-one get in his way. He had fought his way into a position of coveted power and of subsequent respectability to those who answered to him, on both sides of the law. At what cost, Vin well knew.

Was it worth the people he had crushed and murdered along the way? He saw nothing in the cool black gaze to indicate that a conscience was plaguing him, but there was something different about him, or simply the aging perhaps, of the sharp and menacing face. Whatever it was, the fire that had always seemed to burn so fierce from the dark eyes now seemed a little duller, flatter, a little less intimidating to him. Whether it was merely the observation of a grown man, more than able to defend himself and now not so easily frightened, or whether there was something to it and it actually reflected the price that Billy had paid for keeping his place at the top for so long, he didn't know, but it could not be easy to stay the head of his club all these years, always watching your back for the rise of a new challenger coming to throw you from your keep. Suffice to say he appeared… somehow more mortal, as vulnerable as the next man, not the figure of unstoppable force that he had long remembered him to be. Indeed, his mind had embellished the facts over the years, working on the memory of a scared and desperate child, and now he finally saw the truth: _Billy the Blade was as capable of dying as the next man._ He was no myth or embodiment of a scary childhood story, he was flesh and bone – and with that truth, he felt his lungs open along with his eyes and a deep length of air seeped into his aching chest.

He released the breath slowly, calmly letting go the fears and the images of a boy's mind, letting his doubts and the darkness that came with them rise into the air and drift up with the glowing sparks of the fires. And finally, when he could exhale no more, he began to take a new breath, as slow as his last was spent – and with the drawing of fresh air into his chest he knew that a new time had come. The next breath that he drew was that of a man, awakening himself into a new beginning.

..

Inside the glass doors leading to the balcony, looking out at the two men eyeing each other darkly, another set of eyes was observing all. On the wide, strong forehead that peered out unseen, there was a deep frown that matched the grim line of displeasure on his rough lips. He was too late. He had not meant for them to meet like this, not yet. With a sigh he placed a hand to the door, it could not be helped now, he would just have to play his part, as he always did, and stop the kid from making a huge mistake. The time would come when these two would face each other. when all that had been kept buried for lifetimes of pain would be brought to light, but that time was not now.

..

Ezra settled onto his polished, tan leather couch, not bothering to remove his shoes. He was tired, too tired to bother with even the smallest task of making himself comfortable. His shoulder pained him at every movement; all in all, it had been a bad week. He didn't know if it was seconds, or minutes later, when the buzzing of his intercom came to him like a distant dream. He had been waiting a long time to get the device changed, for the noise it emitted was like a screech that got beneath his skin every time he heard it, not that he heard it all that often. A meaningful curse parted his lips even as the harsh noise continued to grate his nerves. Someone was hell bent on him opening the door, if their persistence was any indication.

With a sigh of self-pity he put his polished shoes to the gleaming marble tiles and got up, holding his injured arm close as he pushed to his legs and shuffled his way to the intercom panel, leaning wearily on the wall as he pressed the button to answer.

"I must insist you remove your digit of devilry from the call button at once, lest I come down and appease my ears by rendering the offending appendage permanently inoperable."

Used to the churlish tone that he unfailingly received from the southern man that lived in the top story apartment, the night clerk ignored the threat to his finger. "Mr Standish, Sir, a package just arrived for you. Would you like me to bring it up now?"

Ezra recognised the voice and sighed. "I would be much obliged, Mr Shore."

He checked his watch, it was near nine o'clock, a strange time of night to be receiving packages he thought, as he went to pour himself a drink.

..

Billy peered at Vin through the silence, intrigued at what he was seeing. He had sensed the fury emanating from the younger man, curiously wondering if violence was going to result. For almost a minute he had stood and watched the man visibly check his anger and had seen the moment when a deep breath had brought an almost deadly calm to the lean frame. The transformation was fascinating to a man who considered he had the ability to pry inside a person's mind until he thought he knew how it worked. He could not begin to know what had spawned that anger, but he would find out. Whatever had caused it had brought the glint of death and retribution to the clear and focused eyes that had taken a furious effort of will to check.

He had read the battle easily, seeming all the more vivid through the mottled patches of black and blue that marred the handsome face before him like a gathering storm. A smile worked its way onto his shadowed lips as Billy took a step forward into the light and openly observed the younger man. He knew that anger, and knew it well – for many a long year he had ridden with hatred in his own heart, aimed at nothing, and at everything, all at once. Over the years the anger had subsided, was more controllable, but with it had come the need for self preservation like never before. He had thought the streets were tough for the first half of his life, but they were nothing compared to the life he had led since.

His fight to the top had been violent and purposeful, but no less urgent once he got there. There was no reward of peace, rather a heightened level of existence, where power and command was yours, but could be taken from you in the blink of an eye if you were not careful. Complacency was his biggest enemy now and the constant strain of watching his back had gotten to him, although he was yet to acknowledge it. He did not

trust even his oldest followers, save maybe Jake. But now, having reached the top, he knew he could not go back, the fall would be too great.

He had stepped out on the balcony to get a breath of air, to get away from the men all vying for his attention, some more vocally than others. It was a drawback of having the amount of power that he had, everyone was always wanting a piece of it. He'd spotted Suzy slinking around the hallway and had dragged her out with him, thinking to find some mindless relief through her numerous talents, most of which he prided himself on having brought out in her himself, but had been interrupted before he could even adjust to the light.

Now the source of that interruption was still staring at him, having uttered no words of apology, nor regret. The younger man was too caught up in his own fireball of emotion to be aware of any danger that his actions might have brought upon himself. Billy had the strangest feeling that he was looking upon something familiar. The eyes, that were even then glittering at him darkly, were no strangers to anger, he knew instinctively. They were also no strangers to charm, he would bet. This was a man that would know how to get what he wanted. Furthermore, _this was a man he could use on his side..._

Whatever Billy was going to say was lost as the French doors swung open to reveal Sugar, stepping out towards them, the light of the hallway framing his massive figure. Both men blinked at the intrusion, both welcome and unwanted on Vin's part and looked to Sugar questioningly.

"Jake's looking for you, the next fight's on, he said you wanted to see this one," Sugar informed Billy, appearing to have no idea of the tension he had just cut in on so casually. He turned to Vin, raising a brow, "See ya found yer way 'round easy 'nough." He nodded to Billy, keeping his eyes on Vin.

Vin stared at Sugar, the tension of the moment dissipating with his arrival, and found that he still could not find speech through the hard knot in his throat. He swallowed, his Adams apple moving in the shadow of his unshaven jaw and glanced again at Billy, only to find the older man had never taken his eyes from him and was still staring intently back. There was one difference in his expression however, for now there was a grim smile on his face, as if he had worked something out.

"Yeah, took a wrong turn somewhere," he said distractedly to Sugar, his response rough. He half nodded to the phone still clutched in his hand, all the while his eyes staying on Billys'. "I was try'in'a get reception."

Sugar shifted his eyes from Vin to Billy. "No point, it'll just cut out 'round here. You can climb onto the roof an' it still wont work. Tried it the other day."

A short silence fell, Billy adding tension by still not speaking.

"There's more than one landline inside," Sugar went on, trying to fill the silence.

Vin finally picked up on Sugar's hurried tone and dragged his eyes away from Billy to spare him a curious look. He was speaking faster than he had ever heard him, and _making idle chatter_? Sure he was somewhere he probably shouldn't be, on Billy's private floor, but it was not a crucifying offence. Sugar seemed…almost _anxious_, if he could believe the big man had it in him to be so. It was as if he knew how significant this moment was, but that was impossible. He was the only man there who knew the weight of this meeting.

"Like I said, Mi casa's everyone's casa, make yourself at home. Better still, come join me for a drink in my office. You can use the phone in there. Sugar knows where it is."

With those words Billy nodded and left the small balcony, exiting through the door and heading off, leaving Vin to ponder the smile that had left on the man's face. He could not fathom that smile.

Sugar waited a moment, watching Vin's eyes follow Billy down the hall, before giving him a stern look. "Like hell you will. What the hell are ya doin', comin' up here?!" He whispered harshly. "There's a bed roll in the back of the truck if yer lookin' fer somewhere ta sleep."

Vin scowled at Sugar, not feeling he needed to justify every move he made to the man as he moved to follow after Billy, only to find himself stopped by a hard shoulder to his own. He grunted with the sudden pain, resisting the urge to put a hand to his blackened side and turning his head with a frown to see Sugar's jaw working, like he wanted to say something but could not find the words.

"Somethin' on yer mind?" he asked the big man, his tone dark in reaction to the sudden painful jolt. Sugar was not one to dally with words, his job was purely physical.

Sugar noticed none of this, his only priority to get his message heard. He stared out at the dark sky beyond Vin for a long moment, his body language warning the former DEA agent that this wasn't going to be a polite chat. The Enforcer was simply staring ahead as if trying to formulate the right words.

'If yer checkin' the weather, I kin already tell ya it's gonna rain," Vin said. It was a sure bet, given that it had rained every damn day of his visit to the state. He was trying to provoke a confrontation, but he'd been right when he'd noticed Sugar was in no mood for games.

"Just shut the fuck up and listen!" he hissed, his anger coursing into his voice even though his body language had not changed. Vin heard an urgency in his tone that told him whatever was on his mind was important to him, and he had to admit he was curious to know what had Sugar so riled and so he waited, enduring the wrath aimed his way in silence. "You don't know what the fuck your getting yourself into."

Still Vin said nothing, knowing they were talking about Billy.

"He's not looking for friends and allies, he's looking for someone to take the fall. The cop's'll want a scapegoat over the ATF guy you took out and if Billy get's his way that'll be someone from Texas. He's bringing down some key men and there's gonna be fallout. I think he's setting you up to take it."

Vin thought about that. Why would Billy want to set him up? More than that, why was Sugar trying so hard to save what he thought was a doomed man?

"Who says I'm tryin'a be his friend? And why the fuck would you give a damn?" he said, scowling.

Sugar stepped closer to him then and Vin could see there was a battle going on in the dark blue eyes, one that he apparently tempered because his next words went in a different direction.

"It's my job to protect as well as punish," he said simply, his voice unusually raw. "I don't give a damn about Billy and his men here, but my boys from home are my blood. Eddie's been planning on taking down Billy for a while now, but he never thought things would heat up this quick. That shooting the other night escalated things, so now he's got a major war on his hands that he wasn't ready for. This place is gonna go to hell and I ain't gonna let you go down with it."

Vin's surprise was impossible to mask, but before he could speak, Sugar was talking again.

"You see the posts at the gate to the drive?"

Vin turned and looked out at the posts in the distance, difficult to make out against the dark night. They were painted a threatening black to match the wrought iron gate that marked the entrance to the drive.

"Look closer. What do you see on top?"

Vin's eyes narrowed slightly, it was a fair distance. One of the posts appeared to have something resting on top. A ball, or… _hair_ perhaps… He swallowed involuntarily.

"Whoever that was, it ain't my style. That's just a taste of what he's capable of… And it ain't always men that piss him off…" There was a reminiscent quality to his tone that made Vin turn to study his face for the truth. "I've seen him rape a woman and then cut her up for nothing more than looking his way…" He looked right at Vin then and they simply stared at each other for a long moment.

_He knew_…Vin could see it in his eyes, but that was impossible… _wasn't it?_ And if he knew about his mother, what else did he know about him? He swallowed the sudden hard lump in his throat and when he spoke his voice was beyond rough.

"What are you tellin' me this for?" he asked carefully, feeling a multitude of emotions push at his chest. Anger, as always, the prominent one.

"Because I look out for my men… ambition is one thing, but you're looking in the wrong place if you think siding with Billy will get you what you want. All he'll get you is dead."

Vin raised his brows, there was a lot more that Sugar wasn't saying. "Tell ya what, ya tell me the truth, right now, an' I'll listen to yer advice… otherwise, I don't give a damn what yer lookin' out for, I'm not doin' anythin' wrong."

Sugar frowned at the challenge, studying Vin's face and seeing the attitude there, attitude that he knew was going to get him killed if he didn't do something to stop him, but the truth… that was something he was not prepared to face.

"You know what? You want to join him for a drink I can't stop you." Vin watched him step aside so that he could pass. "Just watch your back," he added, looking intently at him to make sure he took that last in.

Vin paused, knowing they weren't the words Sugar had really wanted to say, but left him alone all the same. He had more important things to worry about than what was on the Enforcer's mind. Maybe the man had looked out for him over the years and helped him become the fighter he was today, but he had no feelings toward him that could be called friendship. He couldn't afford to make friends in his line of work. Still, the knowing look shared by the guys downstairs came back to him and he found himself frowning. How had

Sugar known where to find him? The man seemed to turn up everywhere lately... One might even say he was ubiquitous...

He didn't need to turn back to know Sugar was still standing on the balcony and cursed his failed attempt to get a message to Larabee. He'd have to find a way to get through to him tomorrow. He needed to know that the club was aware of the team. Charlie had said they wanted to 'head them off before they got started', which could only mean they already had something planned to hit them with.

He made his way back down the stairs, stepping once more over the couple that were still sprawled, but apparently now sated, on the way down. His mind was strangely calm, although he was replaying the scene with his father over and over, analysing it from every possible angle. And still, that smile bothered him…

He had no idea where the man's office was and Sugar wasn't about to help him find it. There was obviously no love lost between the two of them but he knew nothing of the history between them.

"I see you've found your way back to the real party."

He turned to smile at the woman who's image still haunted him from the night at the bar.

..

Ezra eyed the package the uniformed man handed him, appearing to contain paperwork inside. It had an inner-city post code on the front, and yet had been dropped at the door of the building late at night. Instead of referring to its delivery, however, he spoke of a matter of greater importance to him.

"Any estimation on when my intercom will be receiving a much overdue service?" he asked in his usual world-weary tone.

The night clerk only smiled, having heard the question repeatedly for several weeks. "Sorry, Mr Standish, I haven't been told anything yet, but I'm sure it's being arranged."

Ezra moved back, indicating he was going to close the door. "Entire countries have been rebuilt in faster time, wouldn't it seem, Mr Shore?"

Walter Shore laughed as he backed away from Ezra Standish's door. He knew, the day the eccentric man stopped complaining, he would really be in trouble. "Good night, Sir."

Ezra nodded absently as he closed the door, taking his package inside and heading back to the couch. Sitting back, he opened the large envelope and found another envelope within. Tearing the seal he peered inside, seeing several large sheets inside and slid them out onto the spotless glass of the low marble coffee table before him. It took a second for the impact to register.

"Oh my God…"

..

Chris rolled over and peeled one gritty eye open toward the light of his alarm clock: 9.15pm. He'd gone to bed incredibly early with a self-satisfied smile, knowing tonight was the night he was going to catch up on much needed sleep, but now that plan was shattering before his sleep-dulled gaze. With a growl, he heard again the hammering at the front door that had woken him up and threw the covers back, grabbing his gun and flicking on lights as he walked through his apartment, his naked skin feeling the coolness of the air after the warmth of his sheets.

As he turned on the front light he suddenly heard the flight of heavy steps down the hallway and lunged for the door, peering out into the carpeted aisle in time to see a man rounding the corner and heading for the stairs. He thought to give chase and then saw his neighbour's door open down the hall, the old retired Mr Jacobs looking back at him silently for a moment, a bat in his hand for protection. His heavily aged face was impassive, as if there was nothing amiss in seeing his neighbour standing naked in his doorway with a gun in his hand. Chris nodded to him and the old man stepped back, once more bolting his door without a word.

He'd never spoken to the man before, for he was more mysterious and protective of his privacy than anyone he had ever met, save maybe Vin Tanner, but he knew the old man knew everything that went on in the building, for his gaze was sharp and all-knowing.

The danger now passed he looked around and noticed an orange envelope on his doorstep down by his feet.

Checking the hall again he bent and picked it up before moving back inside and bolting his own door. He headed to his bedroom and grabbed a pair of sweat pants off the floor before going to the kitchen table, his office at home, and sitting down. He ran a hand through his tousled hair before opening the taped edge of the envelope and pulled out the paperwork within.

Photo's emerged from the package and with instant recognition, Chris let them fall to the wooden surface with a small sound of shock, as if the touch of them had seared his skin. It took a long moment before his hand went out and touched them again, scattering them apart so that he could see them all at once, cocking his head as he began to take in their meaning. This was wrong, _they_ were wrong, they could not be real...

But slowly his stomach began to clench in fear. _And if they are?_

_No. _He had to get to the bottom of them, and fast. If he believed these photos spoke the truth, then he would have to question everything he believed to be right, including himself. The phone rang then, its electronic sound shrill in the quiet space and slowly he moved to answer it, his mind still focused on the images scattered on his table, instinctively knowing that the call was no coincidence.

"Larabee."

"Mr Larabee, my apology for the late disturbance."

"Ezra, what's up?"

"I have just received a package at my apartment that I thought you should see, before anyone else does."

Chris closed his eyes and leant on the kitchen wall, one hand gripping the phone tightly and the other raking through his hair as he breathed. What the hell was going on… and who else had received a similar package tonight?

"I'll be right over."

..

Looking at Suzie, Vin saw that she had still not bothered to dress herself and wished then he'd just headed back outside without interruption. He wanted to think, but more than that, he realised, he wanted to sleep. The sight of her face still bothered him, bringing an onslaught of feelings with its presence. Still, this was someone as close to Billy as you could get, she would be a handy source of information. He tilted his head back, taking in the site of her.

"An' I see ya still ain't found yer clothes… A mite cold ta be walkin' 'round in the raw, don't ya think?" He gave her a conspiratorial wink and leaned in close, whispering in her ear, his voice all the more rough in it's lowered tone. "There's some real unsavoury fella's round these parts."

Suzy's brow arched. "You don't say…" she breathed. "Well in that case, maybe you should lend a lady your jacket to keep her warm..."

Vin's smile held. She knew he wouldn't part with his jacket. A biker's jacket was something sacred. He reached over and picked up a discarded, flimsy lace top he had spotted hanging over the arm of a couch. "Reckon this'll do fer a start. Got more material than that… handkerchief ya got on there."

She did not move to take the garment and after a moment he smiled again and flicked it back where he'd found it, giving a slight shrug as he made to walk off.

"Thought you might be interested in a real bed tonight…"

That stopped him. He looked back over his shoulder, a brow raised and slowly turned back, his eyes hard. His voice, as always, was slow in its response, each word accounted for as it was delivered. "Well now, I reckon I've already stepped on Billie's turf enough fer one night."

A red tinge flew to her cheeks. "I'm no man's ' turf'," she spat, turning on her heels and stalking off.

Vin shook his head after her. 'Hellcat' was the word that came to mind.

..

Back in his office, Billy stared thoughtfully at the image of Vin walking out the front door into the night. He'd been right, the man had definite charm when he wanted to use it. It didn't take much to get a rise out of Suzy, but it took a lot to catch her interest these days, and he could clearly see, by her body language alone as he looked at the black and white security monitors lined before him, that that's exactly what he'd done. His curiosity for this man was growing by the minute. Most men would have jumped at the chance of a drink in the president's office, but not this one. Either that, or more likely Sugar-Ray had warned him away. With a smile born of new-found enthusiasm, he got up to find Jake. Turner could definitely prove useful. He saw potential in the intelligent features he'd had such an uninhibited view of upstairs. It was his eyes that had told him that, rather than the few words they had exchanged. The situation with Bale and the

shipment he needed to move required something other than brute strength to get the job done. He could send Jake to personally see to it, but he was beginning to think that after all these years it was time that Jake started stepping out from the hands-on work he'd always carried out. Also, Sugar's obvious protection of the kid amused him. It would be interesting to see his reaction to him bringing his boy in to do a job for him. That alone was incentive enough.

He was going to find out everything there was to know about Vin Turner.

..

**Night Moves**

Ezra tucked the images back inside the envelope they had arrived in and left them on the bar where he'd been sitting, contemplating them for long, quiet minutes, before the buzzer from hell announced Larabee's arrival. He didn't want to take a chance on anyone but his boss seeing the photos just yet. A quick glance at the wall monitor and he allowed Chris to step into the grand entrance of his apartment, reading the tension in the solemn face even as he glanced at the orange envelope his captain carried in one tense fist, his first question preceded by a raised brow.

"Am I to assume you are also the recipient of ill tidings?"

"No assuming about it," Chris said, making his way inside and hearing Ezra close the door behind him, "If you have the same information I do, it's a hell of a lot worse than ill tidings."

Ezra overtook him and steered him back toward the bar, waiting for Chris to seat himself on one of the high stools, realising he wasn't going to when the lean man moved toward the wide window, looking out over the dark city skyline, the envelope still held tight in his hand as if he could strangle it into submission.

"I didn't want to say too much on the phone," Chris said to the cold glass. He was having a sense of de ja vu, the view from Tanner's hospital window had been of a less affluent side of town, but the shadowed squares of concrete interspersed with slashes of light had been similar. A city was a city, building blocks of man that spread across the land until one had to gaze far and hard to catch a glimpse of the beauty that had once stood in their place.

Chris had never found beauty in cities and structures, but turning then to glance around the open space of the room, he considered that Ezra was a man who did. The place was elegantly furnished, and yet cold and sterile, hardly more than an impersonal hotel room, albeit a damn expensive one. It was as if the southerner had yet to unpack, or was only planning a temporary stay until he found another place.

He moved back to the bar and took the drink he was offered without having had to ask and glanced at the expensive label on the bottle being returned to the mirrored shelf. He'd give that much to Ezra, he had a nicely stocked bar. Ezra handed over his own package and remained standing as Chris finally seated himself at the high marble-topped bar, his hand lingering a moment on the envelope as he took a drink of the smooth whiskey, as if still debating handing it over. Then with no further hesitation, he put down his glass, wordlessly slid his own package to Ezra and opened the envelope he'd received in exchange, all without making eye contact.

Only the sound of the large clock above the bar marked the passage of the long seconds that each man used to view the images before them. It took only a glance to see that they had indeed received the same information, yet neither hurried to vocalise the fact. Finally, it was a harsh curse from Larabee's lips that put an end to all doubt. His fear was now founded and there was now no turning back. He threw back the rest of his drink in one shot and pushed the glass away from him.

"There is the possibility that these are fraudulent," Ezra suggested.

"Yep," Chris said, even as he shook his head. Discovering the truth was his first and foremost goal, but either way, these photo's were going to mar the career of someone he had known for a very long time. There was no telling whose hands they were leaking to as they sat here, delaying. And with that thought, he got to his feet. "We need to get to the bottom of this, and we need to do it now."

He tucked the images away beyond his sight and rubbed the back of his neck wearily, looking at Ezra with intent. The southerner did not expect him to offer any more than that and was surprised by the raw quality of his voice as he spoke, as if he felt guilty for even giving voice to his doubts.

"My first reaction was that they're forged…" again he shook his head, as if wanting to deny his thoughts, "but the different clothing in each shot, the number of locations and times indicated… I'm not so sure, now that I've seen more."

Ezra was more objective, although he had to admit, he hadn't known the guy as long as Chris had. He did not call him a friend, let alone a close one. "No man could deny the conclusion posed from these scenarios, the detail is too explicit to ignore. The visual impression left will be enough to bring his career to an early demise, should this reach the wrong hands." He paused briefly, lowering his tone. "There is, however, no way to be certain of the truth unless we pursue it."

Chris looked at Ezra, his eyes shining, reflecting the rows of bottles stacked on the shelf before him. "I owe him that much."

"So you intend to confront him with these?"

Chris nodded, now sure that was just what he would do. "How did you receive your package? Do you have any idea where it came from?"

"It was postmarked through the city post and yet found on the step of the building not long ago... I have no idea why anyone would send these to me," he admitted.

"I didn't see the guy that dropped them at my door, but it worries me that he came to my apartment." He looked at Ezra point blank. "I'm pulling you out of the club."

Ezra's eyes betrayed his silence, protest blaring from their bright depths. He had long learned not to show his desires openly for other's to deny him, however such was his passion for this case, he unwillingly let slip.

"Right now," Chris continued, before they could discuss it, "we need to deal with this, anything else is not a priority tonight."

Ezra paused a moment and then nodded, leaving Chris at the bar while he returned to find his shoes and coat, but also needing to get a hold of himself. There was no way in hell he was going to give up on his case, not without sure proof that Vlahov or anyone else was onto him, but for now at least, he would follow Larabee's lead.

..

A short while later, Chris stopped the car, taking his keys from the ignition and leaning back in his seat as the

automatic light flooded the driveway of the outer suburb residence. The clock on the dashboard blinked midnight, yet he was in no hurry to get on with his task now that the moment had arrived.

"I assume you plan on doing this tonight?"

Chris scowled at Ezra in the passenger seat beside him, who was none too impressed with his procrastination. He really couldn't blame the man. In fact, he was not totally sure why he'd brought him out here when he could just as easily have let him sleep in peace, but he had received the same package for a reason, there was no denying that.

"Come on."

They walked to the door in silence, not sure what response their tidings were going to bring and both wishing they were not the ones to have to bear them. Whilst Ezra had seen enough corruption and double crossing for a lifetime during his intelligence operative years, he was not so familiar with handling situations on such a personal level. Chris's silence was nothing new to him, but it had been deafening on the drive over, the car weighted with much troubled thought, and he had good reason for his worry. This could affect them all, regardless of the truth in the matter. Their team could be turned right around, should their founder be named unfit to serve the people. Ezra certainly did not envy Chris his personal relationship with the owner of the house they were about to enter.

It took three rings of the doorbell for the front light to come on and finally they realised somebody was looking out at them from the peep-hole of the door. A gruff voice called out.

"Larabee, you better have a damn good reason for getting me up this time of night."

Chris did not grin at the sound of the familiar voice. "I wish I didn't," was all he said in return, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his jacket as the wind kicked up and delivered a light spray of rain under the porch where they stood. A moment later they heard a chain move and several locks being turned, before the door opened and they came face to face with the man they had been looking at in photographs all night. It was a shock to them both, seeing him in the flesh with the images so fresh in their minds.

Wilson Benning stared at Chris's grave expression and held a breath. There were only a few rare occasions that he had seen an expression like that on the man's face, and it had never been good news. Something serious had happened to put that look there, something he knew he wasn't going to want to hear. He eyed the envelope in his hand.

"I take it you're not selling insurance."

Chris managed to give him a lift of his lip, but nothing more and after a brief moment, Benning stepped back and bid them to enter out of the rain, determined to get on with whatever it was that had brought the two agents to his door in the middle of the night.

"Well, whatever it is, you'd best come inside and get on with it."

They followed him inside and he led them to a dining table, motioning that they should sit down. He did not offer any refreshment, still not sure how long they intended to stay, or the nature of their visit. He watched as they both sat down, Larabee placing his package carefully in front of him, handling it as if it were a bomb about to explode if mishandled. After a long pause it became clear that Chris was not in a hurry to speak and Benning gave him a sympathetic smile as he stood and went to a low bench by the window. He took a cigar from a wooden box there and offered them both one, shrugging slightly when they declined. He went through the procedure of trimming and lighting the end before taking a seat, puffing to get the tobacco burning and then blowing out a low stream as he sat back. Finally, he looked Chris in the eye.

"Whatever it is son, it's not going to get any easier the longer you sit here chewing it over. Out with it."

That was his way, always straight to the point and in return Chris wordlessly pushed the envelope towards his old friend, his respected former captain and mentor for many a long year. This was the man that had brought him back from the brink of despair, had given him back hope this last year when all seemed so pointless… and this is how he was going to repay him.

Benning eyed the envelope a moment looking from it, to Chris, to Ezra, before taking a long puff of his cigar and resting it in an ash tray on the table. He dragged the envelope toward himself and looked again at Chris one more time before he proceeded to look inside, but Chris only shook his head slightly, not knowing what to say. In just one more moment, he would have his answer, Benning's face would be all the truth he would need.

The silence stretched as Benning lifted the envelope, opening the resealed end and taking the sheets of

photographs from inside. He placed them on the table and studied the first image, taking the longest time to stare at the picture before him. Finally he pushed it aside and looked at the next, then did the same to look at the next image, quickly seeing the pattern before rapidly splaying them out before him in a fan of images, all of which told the same story.

"Dear God…"

And with those two words, Chris thought he had his answer. Whilst Wilson Benning was deeply alarmed at what he saw, he considered that it was more the horror of a man that had been caught out, not of a man shocked with the images he was seeing, or outraged at what they implied. In complete and total disappointment he let his head fall forward a moment, his eyes closing against the sight of the man only a foot away from him – too close to the reach of his fist for comfort.

"Honey, is everything alright down there? Who was at the door?"

Wilson eyed the foot of the stairs in alarm, but there was no sign of his wife.

"It's ok, sweetheart, it's just Larabee. Got a case to discuss."

"_Again_? Hello Chris!"

"Hello Dawn, sorry to disturb you like this." Chris felt guilt tear at his stomach. What was this going to do to Wilson's wife and family?

"Just don't whisk my husband away til all hours like you did the last time you turned up in the middle of the night! He needs his sleep you know, he's not getting any younger!"

Under any other circumstance, Chris would have smiled at that - but not that night. They waited until they heard an upstairs door close before taking up the conversation.

"These photo's are not new to you."

Benning looked up, but not first at Ezra, who had voiced the question. His eyes were imploring Chris's bent head to rise. He sighed and met Ezra's questioning gaze.

"No. But not in the way you're both thinking."

Chris looked up at that, curious what he could mean, and Benning took the opportunity to look him dead in the eye.

"They're forged."

Chris stared at him, daring him to give him a good enough reason to believe him, because he wanted to.

"God, I need a drink." Benning said, but did not move. He ran a hand through his hair before he began. "This type of thing has happened twice before. It's a sign that we've gotten too close for their liking," he smiled at the irony of it, "so that is one good thing, meaning we are definitely making progress, but it's also going to mark the end of my game."

"So these pictures are forged?" Chris prompted, pointing to the evidence before them. He pulled one apart from the others, a clear shot of Benning handing over a package to a biker. It was one of many shots of their superior in suspicious situations with shady characters. There was even a shot of him at what looked to be an illegal fight, sitting next to a notorious criminal, who had since gone to prison. Several showed him either handing over, or receiving, money or dark packages and there was one in particular, that his wife would definitely not like.

"These pictures are most definitely forged," Benning said with conviction, "and an expert analyst will say the same. But it won't matter, not once they reach the wrong hands. My name is going to be mud before the day is out. I won't be able to show my face anywhere for a long while without suspicion dogging me." He got up then, going for a drink anyway.

Chris watched his back as he headed to the bar and the first stirring of hope was ignited. "You're saying that you were never involved in any wrong doing, that somebody is setting you up?"

Benning laughed, a hollow, empty laugh. "Don't get that hopeful tone in your voice, Larabee, this is definitely as bad as you think it is, for my career anyway, not to mention for your team. We've just started to make progress and now we're going to be the villains here, not them. Once they leak these images to the press, not only am I out of a job, the agency is going to be so busy doing damage control it's going to give those outlaw sons of bitches another chance to step up their game again while the eye is off them." He swore as he poured a glass of brandy. "This couldn't have come at a worse time, with the funeral only days away this is the last thing we needed."

Chris looked at Ezra, who was looking at the photos, as if trying to see something he had missed.

"You say this has happened before?"

"Twice. Down in California. George MacLennan of the DEA was getting close to cracking the amphetamine ring the local bikers had going when he got a similar package sent to him, via the evening news. The case was put on the back burner, his career was over and on top of it all, his wife left him, took their three kids and headed out of town the next day. Then there was Frank Izzano, he didn't get the same deal but it was much, much worse in the end. Photos of him with prostitutes and one of him allegedly taking a bribe. He managed to prove his innocence in the end, but it was never enough to reinstate him, or get his family and friends back." He paused for effect, looking Chris again in the eye. "They found him hanging in his own bathroom a year later."

Chris held Benning's look, trying to pry into the depths of his eyes to find the truth as the man smiled ruefully back at him. What was starting tonight was just the tip of the iceberg.

Benning lifted a finger off his glass and pointed it at Chris. "_You_ don't even know what to believe, and you've known me for years. You've seen the type of man I am, the one that you _thought_ you knew, and you thought you knew what I was and wasn't capable of, until now."

Chris's face flushed a little, but he was not able to refute the words.

"Son, a man'd have to be a complete fool not to doubt his own mother, not given the type of visual evidence you have there before you. My point is, if you have doubts, the public won't. This is going to be easy to understand to them, a black and white case. A cop going bad is something they have come to expect, and accept easily. And if they doubt one, they will doubt more than one. It's only a matter of time before they question how valid our quest is to stop the bikers. We might just find a lack of funding come next budget. In fact, if I'm right, before then. This might not be the only hand they have ready to play. I told you in the beginning these weren't backstreet thugs we were dealing with. This is organised crime, to a high degree."

Chris reached out and took the cigar that was burning in the ashtray, taking a long draw as he leant forward and then breathing it out slowly as he leant back. He wanted to believe Benning was telling the truth, he _needed_ to believe it if he wanted to believe everything the man had taught him about honour and justice were still valid, but despite everything, there was doubt. The power of the images he had seen was strong in his mind and looking at Ezra, he read the same indecision in his eyes, subtle though it was.

Benning had made an excellent case of defence, had given the bikers motive and established precedent, and yet Chris's eyes were denying the reaction he wanted. It was sitting on the fence, pending an analysis of the photographs and the lack of conclusion was bothering him.

The phone rang into the silence and they all exchanged a silent, intense look. It was going to be a long night, and this was just the beginning.


	15. The Flight of William Wallace

**Part 15. The Flight of William Wallace**

Vin woke early, but stayed where he lay for a time, wrapped in the folds of the bedroll that Sugar had left him in the back of the truck. He had considered dragging it out and finding a place amongst the men bunked down in the shed, but his weary body had decided that the dry canopy of the car was a long enough haul from the house. Besides, when he had crashed into sleep, the men were still revelling about the grounds and not near tiring from their partying. He would not find a spot so quiet as this.

For long minutes, his mind drifted through waves of warmth as outside dark, black clouds sat low against a

weakened sun, which was struggling to make a notable appearance on the horizon. He wandered tranquil through thoughtless journeys with no purpose and no end, a cherished time of first awakening, when the soul has arisen but the mind has not yet come to the fore, allowing problems and worry to be pushed beyond reach.

Then came the inevitable sounds of dawn beyond the glass windows and fibreglass which surrounded him in the back of the truck, birds lowly skimming in search of food, dogs gnawing at each other for territory in a strange land, but there were no noises of man, for the men would long be dead to the new day, having exhausted themselves in the moment of the night before.

That was his awakening thought, the realisation that the voices of the men were absent and with that came memory of the night before. The fires, the men, the house, his _father_. Awakening could be a time for either clinging to warm dreams or to be thankful that the dream was just that, a fabrication of the subconscious. For Vin that morning it was a mixture of both. He cherished the memories that sleep had resurfaced, yet looked with anticipation to what the day would bring, for now he was closer than ever to his goals. This was a dawn like no other, for a long and weary search was now over. He had met the man that he had hunted from youth and there had been no satisfaction taken, not yet, but it was just a matter of time now.

He rolled over with a frustrated growl of pain as skin and muscle shifted around his ribs, then surprised himself by realising he had found a comfortable position, incredible considering the hard, ridged metal which lay beneath his back. And so it was, minutes later, that he lay there still, the contemplation of taking a walk to ease the stiffness from his muscles quickly forgotten in the shroud of a light doze, when a noise and a chuckle drew him back to the land of the living once more.

He became aware of a cool, fresh breeze swirling around the once warm cab and knew instantly that something was amiss. The fact that the air carried the scent of a familar-smelling sweet smoke, combined with the continued whispers and chuckles that were now reaching him had him instantly alert, although he had still yet to move.

"It's gaunnae jump."

"He's not an `_it_'," he heard Bruce's indignant voice cut off Ivan, "he's a ` _he_'."

"They _jump_?!" came Cheeses incredulous voice, filled with alarm. He'd been all for the morning prank, until that little bit of information.

Vin wanted to move then, but didn't want to give up the game just yet. Whatever the boys were up to, they obviously thought they had the element of surprise. He had seen many a victim of their pranks before and he could only hope this was not one that would put him back in the hospital, knowing their penchant for taking things too far.

"Twenty says it'll make it to his head." Rizzo said from a distance.

"_He_!" Bruce corrected once more with exasperation. "His name is Wallace, _William_ Wallace to you son - it's not an _it_!"

"You mean ' _he's_' not an 'it'," Cheese corrected Bruce with a grin at his friend's returned scowl.

"Just watch. You're on Rizzo, I say Turner's gonna move and Wallace'll jump before he gets to his head."

"Do they really jump?" Cheese tried to keep the horror from his voice, but he really did want to know. The trick in a situation like this was to not show your fear. If you showed fear, you would be the next victim, plain and simple… but he was secretly terrified of Wallace.

Vin pried an eye open slowly while the absurd conversation went on nearby, still not moving an inch. He could make out several dark forms outside the tailgate of the car and saw then that the back window was open, the reason for the cool breeze.

"Fuckin' oath they do. Like kangaroos."

"Kangaroo's… where do you come out with this crap?"

"I saw it on the nature channel!" Bruce defended his wild statement with much arrogance, watching his beloved pet take tentative steps up the blanket towards Vin's head.

"Like you watch the nature channel."

"I don't know why you take that thing everywhere with you, it's not right." Rizzo cut in, his voice sounding tentative and a little further away. "Why don't you get a real pet, like a dog? I hate having that thing lurking around all the time. It's fuckin' weird."

"Like a dog would fit in my saddlebag," Bruce dismissed the idea.

"Some of those little ones would," Cheese argued. "Ya see women stuffin' 'em in their handbags."

"Ye mean like a Chihuahua?" Ivan asked.

"Wallace would eat a Chihuahua for breakfast," Bruce bragged with pride, but actually believed it was possible. He'd seen it take on a small bird once, although he didn't tell his friends that. They barely tolerated his pet as it was. He called to Rizzo who was standing by a tree a good distance away from the morning activities. "Stop smoking that shit and get over here, you're like a woman!"

"I'm happy over here, supervising. One day when it kills someone, I ain't gonna step up to defend you." He wasn't coming any closer to the hairy menace if his life depended on it. Unlike Cheese, he openly displayed his fear and loathing of Wallace, and all things insect-like. The difference with him was, people rarely wanted to play a prank on him, because his retribution would be tenfold. He had a reputation for being a little psychotic, whether it was true or not was irrelevant in the end. A reputation was a reputation, carefully orchestrated or not.

"They don't kill people," Bruce said, not taking his eyes from the slowly moving hunter.

"Tell that tae Doctor No!" Ivan said, watching Wallace's slow ascent up the blanket with fascination.

"There he goes… that's it… movin' on up there Wally-boy…" Bruce coaxed.

"So they have no poison?" Cheese asked, ever curious.

"Not _bad_ poison."

"There's a good kind?"

Vin had heard enough. Still, he wasn't about to leap up and dislodge whatever the hell they had planted in the car with him that was now crawling up his blanket and send it into an attacking frenzy. He pieced the clues together. Hairy, poisonous, pet, _jumping_, Doctor No... His heart picked up its pace. _Not a Tarantula. God not a Tarantula._ He opened both eyes fully and blinked them into focus… and stared into more pairs of eyes than was necessary for any creature born of the good earth. _Tarantula_.

Three men held their breath, seeing now that Vin had awoken and met his foe. The fourth reluctant conspirator still remained a good distance from the attack range should the thing decide to leap out of the window and come flying at him. For all Rizzo knew, the freak things _could_ fly. However, their enthusiasm was quickly dampened when the shriek and curse that they had expected did not come from inside the car. Instead, a low, sleepy voice reached them.

"Well now, little buddy, ya look a might lost there."

Calmly, Vin raised a hand and ever so slowly put it under the front feet of the fully-grown spider, his movements so subtle and relaxed that no-one would ever have guessed that his heart was hammering at a hundred miles an hour within his chest. He knew their bite wasn't deadly, but he didn't relish getting bitten by it. Besides, the sheer mutated size of the creature scared the hell out of him, even though he knew there was no rational reason for his fear. They were not normally aggressive creatures. Normally.

"What the –" Bruce was amazed and yet disappointed that his plan to scare Vin out of his bed with his pet Tarantula had not succeeded.

Slowly sitting up, using his free hand to push up and take the strain from the muscles of his stomach, Vin brought the spider with him to the back gate, satisfied when everyone but Bruce backed slowly away from him. He held it out to the now scowling man with a lopsided grin, not wanting to give away the absolute squeamishness he was actually feeling at that second as the creature padded around his skin.

"Lose somethin'?"

Bruce held out a hand and took William Wallace back onto his palm without a word, hearing his friends start to chuckle around him. He let it climb up his arm until it rested on his shoulder.

"That ain't right, you've trained it like a parrot."

"Ye cannae train those bastards," Ivan corrected Cheese. "They're like pit-bulls, they'll turn on ye sooner or later."

"Look at the ground clearance on that thing!"

Bruce took offence on behalf of his hairy friend and turned on them, presenting his back to Vin who took the moment to give way to the giant shiver he'd felt building as the heavy feet had pattered around on his hand. The weight of the thing alone was enough to freak him out. He tried to cover his reaction by turning and reaching for his boots, but they missed it anyway from where they stood being accosted by Bruce.

"It's not a `thing' or an `it'! I ain't tellin' ya again! Have some fucking respect!"

There was a second's silence where Bruce began to calm down, thinking he'd finally gotten his friends to show some respect… until the sound of Cheese's voice defied him.

"That thing's hairier than Rizzo's arse."

"Hey!"

That sent them all off laughing again, even Vin, whom they had rarely seen openly laugh. Bruce's curse only had Ivan bent over with more laughter as he readily agreed with Cheese.

"Ah never seen a hairier erse in aw mah puff."

That got another rise of indignation from Rizzo but before he could speak Bruce let his peeking outrage fly.

"You're comparing Wallace to Rizzo's ass?!" he said with disbelief.

Rizzo had started to nod, thinking Bruce was going to defend him, when he suddenly checked his response,

realising he had just been insulted. Again.

"My ma had a yak rug once that had less hair than Rizzo's ass."

Rizzo took a step forward, eyed the creature still sitting on Bruce's shoulder, and moved back again. "How did my ass get into this?"

But Ivan wasn't finished and grated out through his laughter, "mebbe ye could weave a rug outtae Rizzo's erse, make pillows from the fleece `n aw –"

But Cheese wanted to know, "can you really make a rug out of a yak?"

Scowling now, Rizzo cut them off, his amusement long gone and in one well practised move of defiance flipped open the button of his jeans and dropped them down, turning to present them all with the object of their fascination. One hairy paw came around to run through the thick matt of hair that did indeed cover his butt. "It's called a _man_ _growth_, somethin' you Anglo boys just don't achieve in your lifetimes."

Cheese laughed anew at the absurdity of the words as Bruce responded by grabbing his crotch to emphasise his point. "Here's my _man growth_. I think you're concentratin' growth in the wrong area."

But in all the movement of Bruce's body, the proud pet owner finally managed to frighten his beloved Wallace. The result was astounding. And terrifying. In the blink of an eye, the overly large creature took flight, all eight of it's overly long legs acting indeed like steel springs that sprung him a fantastically long distance through the air.

In Cheese's mind, the dark shape of Wallace seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, as if it had the power of the Matrix and was defying gravity as it sailed effortlessly through the space between Bruce and Rizzo.

It was obvious, the frightened pet's final destination. It was seeking cover. The unsuspecting Rizzo, having moved forward to make his point with his back turned, never saw it coming until it was upon him, the weight of it's landing on his rear end sending him into a moment of statue stillness… And then, finally, they had the screaming they had sought after when they had removed Wallace from the safety of Bruce's saddlebags and headed towards the sleeping Vin.

Vin could not make out any of the words as he watched Rizzo doing a crazed kind of dance in a frantic circle with his pants at half-mast, but he thought he heard the repeated phrase `get it off', interspersed with a long continual stream of expletives, and perhaps even a whimpering `please' towards the end.

Ivan was beyond speech, holding his flat belly as he pointed an arm at the spectacle. "It's headed fae cover! Ahhhh all that hair's jist like gittin' home tae the forrest!"

But Bruce was frantic. "Stop movin' for Christ sakes! Yer gonna scare him! Stop movin'!"

"You sure it ain't one a' them trapdoor spiders? CLENCH UP RIZZO 'FORE IT TRIES TA FIND IT'S HOLE!" Cheese shouted, tears streaming down his face.

Rizzo couldn't have stopped it he tried and as hazardous as his plight was, he missed his step on a rather small rock and went crashing to the ground, turning on reflex as he landed to fall… square on his ass.

"God – _NO!_"

There was silence for a moment as everyone went still. Rizzo stared up at Bruce's shocked expression from where he sat on the ground, his naked, albeit hairy, butt firmly planted in the soil.

Vin had been watching from his seat on the tailgate with an amused grin as he'd been pulling on his boots, which had turned quickly into laughter when the spider had let fly. By the time Rizzo had fallen to the ground he could not hold onto his composure in the face of such an absurd situation. Tears actually left his eyes as he realised that Rizzo was paler than sea foam, blinking up in horror at Bruce's tormented expression. It was the sight of the man who usually had a comeback for everything, now struck completely dumb, that did him in.

Cheese straightened his bent, laughing frame and peered at the ground around Rizzo, looking for some sign that Wallace had made it and yet praying more that he hadn't.

"Maybe…" he stifled a chuckle, taking composing breaths, "maybe he made it…" Then he thought it over. "But it would have been like throwin' a picnic blanket over an ant when that ass came crashin' down on it."

"Poor wee Wallace… he didnae stand a chance."

Bruce's head whipped around to look at Ivan, his suspicion confirmed when he saw the humour ravaging the long face of his friend, bellying the sympathetic words. He turned away in disgust, his anguish plain.

"Wallace?" he said, stepping towards Rizzo's outstretched legs as if it would come running at his call.

Ivan replayed the spider flying through the air like an avenging bird in his mind yet again and a strangled sound of laughter worked its way out of his throat. "Where's a camera when ye need one?"

"I've never seen anything like it," Cheese agreed, the hairy, flailing legs of Wallace emblazoned in his retinas for what he was sure would be years to come.

"Is it dead?" Rizzo asked, still too scared to move. He had mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, he wanted it dead dead _dead_, but on the other, he knew Bruce's wrath would be terrible indeed if he had in fact squashed his pet.

"Tell me it's not all tangled in his furry ass, his legs all splayed out and caught in the trap of his hair –" Cheese said, grimacing now at that cartoonish mental picture.

"That hair probably saved his hide." Bruce said.

"How?"

But Bruce ignored him, moving forward to search the ground carefully.

"It aint the bite that hurts people, it's a reaction to their hair." Vin supplied in his quiet manner, still smiling as Bruce tentatively conducted his search.

"Really?" Cheese asked, suspicious of his gullibility being taken advantage of yet again.

Vin's smile grew at the man's unquenchable curiosity. For a moment, he had a vision of the young agent Dunne, asking him about motorbikes in the hospital. "When they get scared they throw hair at ya with their legs."

"Toxic hair," Bruce added, scowling at Rizzo.

Cheese grinned, understanding. "Jeez, Rizzo, guess you _are _lucky your ass is like a bears."

That had Rizzo smiling despite his paralysis. "See? It's Man Growth_._ A defence against attack."

Vin's voice softly called out to Bruce then. He had been looking beyond Rizzo and caught the subtlest of movements on the trunk of the tree that the arachnophobic man had been leaning on earlier. "He's on the tree," he gestured to the tree and they followed with their eyes, taking a moment to spot the spider clinging to the bark effortlessly.

"I knew it!" Bruce finally said in relief and moved forward to retrieve the wayward Wallace once more. Vin had his jacket and boots on and was shutting up the back of the car when they finally composed themselves.

Rizzo had managed to get his pants back up and sent Bruce to put away his pet before he really did squash the thing with a well placed boot heel, when Cheese turned to Vin.

"We're goin' into the city," he informed him, "we've got a little surprise for you, but first Ivan's gotta get some parts for his pig –"

"Ye mean hog," Ivan corrected.

"He means pig," Rizzo said, none of them having ever been impressed with Ivan's ancient bike, always in need of repairs as it was. "Thought we'd spend the night at the bar and head back here tomorrow," he told Vin.

Vin was still stuck on the surprise part. "Reckon I've had enough surprises fer today. What've you fella's got in mind?"

But Rizzo just grinned and slapped him on the back. "Let's just say, the law in this town is gonna get some payback for messin' with our brothers."

That got Vin's attention. "Wouldn't mind a little payback... still like to be in on it though." He said with interest he did not need to feign. He'd thought they would wait until the funeral, he should have anticipated they would want their own retribution for Keg's death.

"But then," Cheese said with enthusiasm, "it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

Surprises, in Vin's experience, were rarely a good thing. "I thought Jake had somethin' in mind fer later, somethin' big. Maybe after the funeral."

"Maybe, but it was our boys that got taken down, not his."

Cheese frowned at Vin's hesitation. "We thought you'd want to do somethin' – for Keg at least."

He kept his voice even. "I do." He cursed then, showing them how much Keg's death was bothering him. "I dunno, it's just the way it went down... I hate cops as much as anyone but they wouldn't've done anythin' if it hadn't been fer Decker coming down on 'em first."

"They still came down on us, whatever the reason. They gotta pay." Rizzo declared.

Vin looked at their faces. They wanted retribution for their fallen friend and nothing was going to deter them. He knew they would want revenge, he should have anticipated this, but he had thought they would take it at the funeral, not before.

"So what's the plan?" he prompted again.

Ivan laughed. "Dinnae worry, yer gonna love it."

"Mornin' boys!"

They all turned as Charlie approached them from the direction of the building, looking like he'd slept in a feather bed the whole night through.

"You too good to bunk outside like the rest of us?" Bruce asked, returning from securing the disturbed Wallace.

Charlie merely grinned as he stretched his back. "No offence fella's, but the bed I found last night had somethin' a lot better than you ugly bastards in it."

Vin's eyes narrowed slightly at Charlie. There was something off about his too-jovial tone. In all the time he'd known him, he'd been nice enough, but shrewd above all else and never this openly friendly. He watched as the big man turned his eyes to him.

"Ran inta Jake on the way out, he wants ta talk ta ya."

Vin's eye's narrowed even more and his head shifted slightly to the side.

"Hell, don't ask me, I'm jist the messenger," Charlie said, putting up his hands at the look Vin was giving him.

They all looked at Vin, their faces serious and Vin shrugged. "Prob'ly somethin' ta do with the shootin'." He looked over to the massive building.

Bruce slapped him on the back to show his support. "We'll ride out when yer done."

"He's in Billy's study, to the left when you walk in," Charlie called to him as he walked away.

Vin turned and they all noticed the narrowing of his eyes as he looked at Charlie.

"Ya seem ta know the layout of the place pretty good." It was bordering on an accusation and Vin knew Charlie should react with anger, so when he didn't, his suspicion was only raised further.

"Been here a few times now."

Seeing Vin's dark look, the rest of the boys all looked at Charlie, just as he wanted them to. There was something going on with him that he wanted them to look out for. He nodded after a moment and walked away, leaving them to contemplate the undercurrents of the exchange.

Once inside he closed the large doors as he'd found them and turned to the left, heading down a wide, terracotta tiled hallway until he came to a massive wooden door on the right. There was a man posted outside that Vin had never seen before.

"I'm here to see Jake," he told him as he was weighed up with a hard look.

"Wait here."

He watched while the man knocked and waited until a voice bid him to enter before turning the handle and giving the door a shove.

"Turner's here."

Was there anyone who didn't know who he was?

"Send him in."

The guard came back out and nodded. "You can go in."

Vin's lip pulled up at the man who took himself way too seriously and went inside the still open door, immediately seeing Jake at the large wooden desk, smoking a cigarette.

"Come in."

Vin studied Jake's face as he entered, taking the seat opposite the desk.

In return Jake studied the younger man for a second time, but now his look was more contemplative. Billy had tracked him down late last night and told him his plan to use Turner to deal with Bale and he had been more than surprised. Apparently they had run into each other upstairs and instead of killing the guy for being on his private floor, his old friend had seemed to take a liking to him.

"Let's see him earn his keep," was all Billy had said when he'd questioned him.

But he knew there was more to it. There was something about Turner that had caught his eye. "I can take care of Bale," he'd told him.

Billy had given him a surprisingly warm smile. "You've been takin' care of that kinda thing for far too long, my friend. It's time you learned how to delegate."

"So this isn't about pissin' Sugar off?"

Billy's grin only grew. " Partly..." he'd admitted. "And partly because the kid's got potential. I see somethin' in him... somethin' the club hasn't had since the old days."

Now as Jake looked at the kid in person, really looked at him, he realised what it was that Billy saw... _himself_. He had the same world-weary, hungry look about him that Billy used to have in the old days. The same fierce

determination in his eyes that had made sure nobody stood in the way of what he wanted. And he'd gone right along with him for the ride.

"Well?" Vin said, impatient at the long, contemplative stare he was getting.

Jake smiled at his arrogance, thinking perhaps Billy had been right. He stubbed out his cigarette and took out

another, pushing the packet across the table in silent question.

Vin shook his head, waiting as the red-haired man lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, slowly blowing out more smoke into the already hazy room.

"We got a problem with a guy that runs our warehouse in the city. John Bale. We've got a shipment to move out before the funeral and he's starting to become a problem. He panics," he said with a shake of his head. "Billy wants you to talk to him for us, make sure it gets moved tonight."

Vin's eyes narrowed. There were enough soldiers around to take care of that sort of thing. Seeing his look Jake shook his head.

"Not that kind of a message. You just gotta reason with him. Tell him if he doesn't move that shipment we're all in the shit, including him. Rattle him a little. We don't want him unable to do his job."

"Why me?" He was genuinely curious.

Jake just shrugged. "It's what Billy wants."

Vin shook his head, but could see that was all the explanation he was going to get. He was being tested. Something had happened between himself and Billy last night that had made the President take notice. He hadn't intended it that way, but it was exactly what he wanted. This was his shot at getting in with Billy. If he could impress him on this task he could get even closer.

"Alright," he said slowly. "I's plannin' a ride out with some boys anyway. Mind if they tag along?" He didn't want to be alone on this.

"I got no problem with that, they already told me they want to set up a surprise for you. Just make sure they don't interfere with anyone. We got a professional relationship with the men down there, there's a shit-load of security that we contract to look after the place. We don't need to start anythin' with them, so keep your boys in line. Just meet with Bale, make sure he's gonna get the job done and you're done."

Vin nodded, sounded simple enough. But long experience told him it never was. "So, where do I find this place?"

Jake grinned, pulling out the directions he'd prepared. He looked forward to seeing how the kid handled it. Bale was a pain in the ass to deal with.

A short while later, Vin found the boys waiting for him around their bikes. He purposefully hadn't sought out Sugar, instinctively knowing that he'd try to stop him from going. For as far as the man had gotten him through the ranks of the club he knew he had to step out from behind him if he was going to get any further.

"Got a job to do for Billy," he said casually, busying himself in his saddle bag to avoid their questioning glances.

Bruce spoke up first. "And he asked you because..?"

Vin tried to shrug it off, but sighed and turned to face them, showing them he was as confused as they were. "Hell if I know. He wants me ta speak with some guy that runs their warehouse here that's been givin' 'em grief."

"He's testin' you out," Rizzo said with a frown.

"Aye, but why?" Ivan said, the shake of his head showing he didn't like it.

"I reckon he jist wants ta piss off Sugar," Vin said, trying to play it down. "He gets some Texas boys involved in his dirty-work an' Sugar'll be spittin' nails."

"An' that doesn't worry you?" Bruce asked him with his eyebrows raised. It bothered _him_. _He_ sure as hell didn't want to piss the man off.

But Vin just shrugged again. "Hell, I'm goin' that direction anyways, I might as well check things out. Wouldn't mind seein' what they're up to."

Rizzo grinned. "I heard they're makin' some really good shit up here. Maybe I can get some samples ta take back home."

Vin shook his head. "I ain't askin you fella's ta get involved in this. I'll take care'a it tonight." But, as he knew they would, they protested.

"You ain't goin' out there alone. I don't trust these pricks. For all you know Billy could be settin' you up for what they think happened at that shootin'. If they really think you ran out on those boys, they might just take you out for it," Bruce told him seriously.

Ivan smacked him on the back as he passed him, heading for his bike. "Aye, you'll be needin' us at yer back if the shit hits the fan."

Cheese just grinned, happy to help Vin out. You backed your brothers.

Vin watched them walk away, his face clouded with thought. For a moment there, before he'd met with Jake, he'd been caught up in their carefree laughter, almost forgetting where he was, but they obviously hadn't. This was real to them. Their hearts truly were in the brotherhood, thinking always of their part in the club, whereas he was just pretending to be a part of it - and never actually would be. They didn't want to do Billy's bidding, he could understand that and he felt bad for dragging them into it. They didn't know about his hidden agenda to work his way into the man's circle. With a sigh his face turned upward, seeming to find its own way up toward the front of the building and from there his eyes scanned the top floor. He knew that somewhere, in one of those rooms, was his father.

Another sigh left him as he followed to the bikes, Ivan cursing his sluggish ignition and Cheese, Bruce and Rizzo already warming up their deafening motors in the quiet morning air. Finally he sat on his own bike and started the motor, both pistons firing into instant action at the command of his thumb on the switch with his exhaust sending an instant plume of fog into the moist morning air, the noise cutting out all chance of speech now for long miles into the city. Whatever it was they were heading towards, he needed to get word to Larabee and he needed to do it fast if he was going to try and control whatever trouble the guys were planning on their visit. Knowing them, they wouldn't do it small. He had a lot to talk to him about.

An hour and a half later, Vin pulled up and parked on the end of the row they had created outside a roadhouse, only a stones throw from the highway exit into the city. There were no other bikes or cars in sight.

"Fuck it's freezin' up here. I can't feel my legs," Rizzo complained as he got off his bike and stretched his legs. He had been the one to speed up and take the turnoff to the roadhouse, his need for food overriding his need to get into the city.

"You ain't wrong. My ass's gone numb," Bruce complained, easing his stocky frame from his bike.

"You should change your plates to `Assman'."

"Jesus Christ, don't start on that again," Cheese begged, already heading to the front glass doors. His normal jovial demeanour was tempered by his own need for food and he was in no mood for their exchange.

Vin was the last to enter the building, finding that his knee had cramped up on the long ride and he needed to stretch it out when he stood up. Since he had damaged it again outside the club fighting Decker, it had seemed to be holding up ok under the careful strapping it had been given in the hospital, but now it was stiff and sore from inaction and the bent position it had rested in on the foot peg, never having needed to touch the back break on the straight run of the highway.

As he moved he realised just how sore the rest of this body was and that his side was flaring with a low heat. He wished he'd brought the antibiotics with him that were in the front seat of Sugar's car, but it was too late for that now. His hand found his cell phone, resting in the pocket of his jacket, and a renewed sense of urgency hit him. His need to speak to Larabee had been dogging him since the night before. It would have to wait though, right now there was nowhere private that he could make the call.

The roadhouse was much larger than it looked, sitting all alone as it was on a torn patch of land. There were no trees or other buildings to size it against and so he had been deceived by its initial appearance. As he entered he realised it was a place that must see a lot of activity from the bikers riding in and out of the

clubhouse. A long, empty food counter ran the entire length of the room and through a large square cut in the wall behind it he could see through to the other side of the building where a long bar was surrounded by pool tables and a few pinball machines. Up against the glass facing outside to their bikes were several booths, all upholstered in a bright shade of orange vinyl, all also empty.

He found the boys at the counter, firing off their orders to an elderly lady who looked undeterred by the type of patronage surrounding her small frame as he walked up beside them. After a moment of writing in her pad the woman's surprisingly sharp eyes looked up and gazed at the newcomer.

"And what'll you have, honey?"

Vin was unnerved as her eyes focused directly on him. In her face was something familiar, yet long forgotten. He quickly grabbed the menu out of Cheese's hands to cover his reaction.

"I… uh… will have... the... hot breakfast." He placed the menu on the counter and his eyes were drawn back to her. "Thank you ma'am."

Nettie Wells was taken aback by the politeness in the young man's clear blue eyes as he thanked her and handed over his menu. He was a scruffy one, to be sure, but there was something in his face that did not seem to fit his rough image, and it wasn't the dark patches of bruising or the cut above his eye either.

"You're most welcome son," she said sincerely.

They took a seat at the booth by the door, the only noise for the moment coming from the small television set above the counter.

"So, ya gonna tell me what ya'll got planned, or do I just tag along fer the ride the whole way?" Vin asked again.

"We're going to get Ivan's pig –"

" _Hog_ ye wee fucker!"

"- Looked at first, then I gotta go buy somethin' for my old ladies birthday," Bruce informed him.

Rizzo nudged Cheese with a grin. "You gonna buy somethin' for your Mrs too? Or don't cousin's have to do that kinda thing on birthdays."

"For the last time, she's not my real cousin, so _back off_!" Cheese had had enough of the taunting. He'd met and married his wife on a drunken weekend in Vegas, only to have to renew his vows for his mum's

satisfaction when he got back to Texas. It was at the church that their mothers both finally met and to his total shock, knew each other. His mother had shouted out `Oh my God Kevin, it's your Aunt Sheila!' and that was it, his best men had never let up since.

As it turned out his new mother in law, Sheila, was an old friend of his mothers and one he did not recall from his childhood, but apparently had called `Aunt' when he was a little kid. The fact that she was not really an aunt had never stopped Rizzo though, or the shock that had reverberated around the church.

They continued to bait each other as they waited for their food, while Vin sat half listening to them, frustrated with not getting an answer out of them and starting to feel a little under the weather, with one ear tuned to the morning news that had started on the television. He could just hear the voice of the newsreader as he started through the news of the day.

Finally their food came and it was just as the old woman was setting down a plate in front of him that a familiar face filled the screen and his breath caught. The men were too busy hoe'ing into their plates to notice, but Nettie did. She met his expression and silently went to the counter, casually turning up the volume and moving back to the kitchen. Vin strained to hear the words that accompanied the images.

_"… A former US Army Captain, Benning has denied the allegations, having this to say at the press conference this morning: _

_`I have never in my entire career, as an employee of our government, taken a bribe from any person, or acted in a manner which may be considered unlawful. These fraudulent pictures are just that, and time will show that I speak the truth. As cases before me have shown, this is a tactic that is employed by criminals when they wish to discredit the police and get them off their back by drawing the public's criticism towards them.'_

He looked directly into the camera then and Vin saw the rage that the man was struggling to hold in check.

_'But even if they manage to put an end to my career, they are still going to be taken down, if not by me, than by my successors. This will not end with me,' _he promised.

Vin was so shocked that he was finding it hard to cover his reaction by taking a large gulp of his coffee and

shovelling in a forkful of scrambled eggs, dipping his head toward the table as he listened.

_"ATF Director Orin Travis was quick to defend the head of his Denver department, saying that the allegations were preposterous against a man with such a sterling and unmarked reputation for upholding the law. He has asked that the public be aware of ploys, which use the media to serve the interests of criminals and syndicate leaders. He made no comment, however, on the extensive number of photographs which were published of Benning earlier today, showing him in incriminating scenarios with known criminals, partaking in illegal betting, as well as linking him with prostitution."_

"Well look at that, he even looks dirty, don't he?" Rizzo said, eyeing the screen having heard the tail end of the story.

"They're all dirty," Cheese said around a mouthful of food.

Vin's heart was pounding. What the hell was going on? Wilson Benning, _a dirty cop?_ He didn't know the man and from what he'd seen in this town so far, Billy's fingers certainly reached far. But if that was true, where did that leave the rest of the team? Or was this the first step in Billy getting the ATF team to back off? Suddenly the need to call Larabee became both paramount and worrisome. They needed to know that the club might have set Benning up but on the other hand, if Benning _was_ dirty, what the hell did that make his new Captain? Weren't they good friends? Wasn't the team put together by Benning in the first place and Larabee hand picked by him? How the hell had things gotten so complicated... For the first time since he had signed the papers Josiah had given him he was doubting his decision to transfer to the ATF.

He slid out from the confines of the table and headed for the toilet sign at the end of the long counter, unable to stop the slight limp that marked his walk.

"Where you goin' in such a hurry?" Bruce called out to his back, but Cheese was laughing.

"I get that way with my morning coffee, no warning, it just hits you!"

Bruce swore. "Yeah but I was about to go, now I gotta go in there after him and he didn't look too good."

Vin rounded the counter and spotted the men's room, quickly making his way inside and heading straight to the cold water tap, ignoring the flickering of the blue fluorescent light above him as he leant forward and splashed the reviving liquid onto the heat of his face. Lingering a moment more he placed his hands on the sink and looked up into the mirror, watching as the unsteady light flashed shadows across his skin. He became lost in it's offbeat rhythm, which lit the white of his eyes with an eerie glow, staring for a long minute as his mind spun in different directions.

The boys were planning that surprise for him, either today or the next and he was the only one who might be able to stop them by getting in touch with his team, only his team was in chaos and was being splashed across the morning news. There was only one way to get the answers he needed, he needed to speak to Larabee. Somehow, he had to speak with his boss before they did anything and find out what the hell was going on. A text message wasn't going to cover it, he needed an actual conversation.


	16. Politics and Pandemonium

**Part 16. Politics and Pandemonium**

Chris sat, unmoving, his back starting to feel the pressure of inactivity after the long minutes he had held still, waiting for Buck to stop his pacing around his office. Finally, after countless seconds, the tall man whirled to face him, outrage pouring from his face.

"God dammit Chris, you should have called me!"

"It wouldn't have achieved anything," Chris said wearily, rubbing his neck and leaning back in his chair to look up at his irate friend.

"It's beside the point! I've known him as long as you have, I had a right to know first! Dammit the whole city knew before I did!"

"Calm down. At least one of us had a good night's sleep."

Buck closed his mouth for a second and finally took in Chris's appearance. He really did look like he hadn't slept in a week. With that knowledge he sat heavily on the chair facing the desk with a loud sigh.

"He's innocent, we both know that." He stopped suddenly and his eyes narrowed at Chris's blank expression. _"Don't we?"_

Chris avoided Buck's gaze, instead absently rubbing at the bandage around his arm and suddenly the tall man was on his feet again, defending the man who had been like a father to him in the army, albeit a hard one. "Benning's as loyal as they come. The man's dedicated his life to his country. There's no _way_ he did any of this shit they're trying to pin on him and you know it!"

Chris kept his voice calm. "It's not my place to pass judgement right now, Buck. What we need to do is concentrate on the team. Until this – "

"Not your _place_?! He needs to know we're behind him on this!" His voice lowered as he leant forward. "Are you forgetting everything that man's done for you?"

Chris's jaw hardened. "No. But right now, I'm trying to look at the bigger picture. This is beyond one man. Benning knows how it works and he's got Travis behind him." He looked at Buck, trying to get him to see the repercussions of the morning's news. After visiting Benning at his house, he and Ezra had taken him to wake up Orin Travis, where they'd had a lengthy discussion on how they were going to handle the situation. Travis had agreed that both he and the department would back Wilson one hundred percent, but what they really needed was something to respond with. Something concrete and hard hitting that they could come back with against the bikers to get them off the attack and into defence mode.

"I need you to focus Buck. Bennings' been around long enough to know how the game's played, but he's relying on us right now to get the spotlight off him. If you really want to help him you'll work with me to do that. We need to come down on that club. We need something to bring them to heel and we need to do it now or the media are going to eat us alive."

"Fuck the media, they're a pack of lying bastards anyway. They've got too much damn power – and the public just buys into whatever bullshit they're selling."

Chris sighed. "Yeah, well trick is to get your story to market first. They don't care who's making the news so long as it's good enough to make the headlines. I hate politics as much as you but Orin's right on this, we need to start playing the game as good as them or we're going to lose. Truth and justice don't always win out in the end, it's votes that keep politicians in power and it's the politicians that decide whether or not we stay in the game. We need to start telling our story louder than they are."

"We don't _have_ a damn story."

"That didn't stop them from making one up about Benning."

Buck cursed again, but got to his feet. "Whatever happened to the days where you just went and shot the bad guys?"

Chris smiled at that. "The bad guys got lawyers."

Buck smiled in return, feeling a little of the tension leave his body. "Alright then, we do this your way."

"It's not my way. Believe me, I'd rather just shoot them all and be done with it."

"Alright then. Let's go get those vultures some real dirt to chew on." He thought for a second. "You'd think having a man on the inside would give us something here."

Chris watched Buck leave, his brow drawing together at the passing shot at Vin, before he followed him out the door to find more coffee. He met with Ezra before he'd taken three steps, the man looking like he needed to speak, urgently.

"You'll have to talk as we walk Ezra, I need coffee," he told him, heading toward the break room. He turned his head to look behind him as a thought occurred to him. "And where the fuck have you been? I've been looking for you for hours. You can't just take off and not tell anyone where you're going, you're meant to be part of a team now, Standish. I expect –"

Ezra listened as his Captain continued to vent the entire way to the kitchen, but knew his news would soon have him thinking in another direction.

In the small kitchen down the hall Chris poured a cup of strong brew, still stressing to Ezra the importance of

teamwork as he finally leant against the counter and stopped to note his agent's expression. "Start talking."

"I met with Vlahov at the club." Seeing Chris's anger flash dangerously he went on quickly. "He's the one that sent us the photo's."

The blonde man's face was rigid and it was then that Ezra saw just how angry his Captain could get. His voice was a harsh sound and his eyes told him loudly that he was in serious trouble. "Back to my office," was all he said before marching out of the room and heading back down the hallway.

Back at Chris's office they found JD waiting to enter with a newspaper in his hand. Chris directed Ezra to move in and looked at JD. "Is it important?"

"Well… kind of, it's –"

"Then it can wait." He closed the door on the flustered agent and headed for his desk.

"Start talking, Ezra, for everyone's sake."

Ezra chose his words. "I wanted to see what he knew about the photos and I was right, he sent them."

"I don't give a fuck about the photo's right now, Standish. I gave you an order to back off and you went out of your way to ignore it. You're lucky I didn't pull you right off the case and you couldn't even show me the respect I deserve by holding back a few days?" He bit off his next curse. What was the point? Obviously Ezra was too strong headed to head any warnings.

For his part, Ezra waited a moment for his leader to take the information in, knowing that Chris Larabee was not one to make rash decisions. After a moment of silent contemplation Chris stood up and came around his desk.

"Do you, for just one second, understand the risk you took in going there, let alone by yourself? I'm supposed to be the leader of a team of professional agents, not a mismatched bunch of renegades who are only out looking after their own interests. What if they'd been on to him? What if they had been waiting for you just to kill you on the spot? You had a direct order to stay away and you still went there! And against my specific orders not to?! You deserve to be dead, do you know that? Give me a good reason why I shouldn't send you packing for pulling a stunt like that. You could have lost more than your cover, doesn't that bother you?! The fact that you weren't killed is a minor miracle, and don't tell me it was worth it because no man's life is worth throwing it away over some useless information you would have discovered soon enough anyway!"

Outside Chris's office Josiah, Buck, Nathan and JD all looked at each other. When Chris had turned JD away

from the door they'd known there was going to be trouble, but apart from Buck, this was the first time any of them had heard Chris truly angry. In fact none of them, with the possibility of Buck, had ever heard that many words come out of his mouth in the one hit, the sound of his voice gaining volume with each word until he had shouted the last sentence.

But Ezra hadn't finished his story and quietly interjected, hoping that the rest of his information would prove to Larabee that the risk had been worth the gain. "Mitri also told me about a shipment coming in across the state tonight. His own men are supposed to help collect the goods and hold on to it while the rest is run further south. Based on the last two monthly shipments, we're looking at around one hundred thousand MDMA tablets, a good size haul of methamphetamine and several hundred pounds of marijuana... to start with."

Chris's hearing seemed to sharpen to unnatural proportions. He could hear a phone ringing from what he thought must have been another building. This was exactly what they needed to help build their case against the club. A bust like this was just what he and Buck had been talking about and Ezra was handing it right to him the moment they needed it.

"He told you this? After all of these months working with him without him so much as giving you a bite, he comes out and tells you about a major haul like this? And a regular one at that?"

"He only just found out. I've told you before in my reports that I suspected he was holding his own shipments in the club's underground cellar. At the beginning of each month he has given me three days off in succession and told me not to come in. I think he wants to unload whatever his own goods are and it has co-incided with a shipment the club wants to move out and he wants them out of his way."

Seeing Chris's expression at that news Ezra shrugged. "I never said the man wasn't self-serving." They had always known he had his own criminal agenda, but he was a tool that they needed for the time being. He stood up. "I know how this looks, I can see this from your perspective, but I'm not some rookie who doesn't understand his job. I've been doin' this long enough to know whether someone is playin' me. Sometimes life just throws you a good hand and if you don't take it you might not get a chance like it again. I know this man, I've spent months dealing with him. He wants to take the bikers down. He may very well be doing it because he's motivated by his own self-servin' ambitions, but he wants them out of the picture and he's goin' to try and do it with or without us. I think we can profit from this – and we'd be foolish to ignore a lead, whatever the source." He calmed himself a little. "I've learned to trust my instincts about people and they haven't let me down before."

Chris sighed and shook his head at Ezra's passion - and at the challenge he saw in the southerners eyes that dared him to say he didn't trust his instincts, even if Ezra did.

"I'm never one to rule out instinct, Ezra, but this is your life you're playing with. This isn't about Mitri and his hidden agenda or even whether we can trust him or not. I know you can handle yourself, that's what I pay you for. What I don't pay you for is to ignore my orders, that's what this is about, do you understand that? I won't accept anything less from you and if you aren't willing to play this my way then you'll be playing it alone."

Ezra looked at Larabee and knew he meant it, he really would pull him off the team. "Alright. You have my word, I won't go off again without notifying you."

Chris studied Ezra's eyes and gave his head a little shake. Ezra had given himself a big loophole there. He didn't know if he believed him. But he was willing to give him the chance. He shoved the matter aside for the time being, needing to focus on the bigger picture.

"We need to contact the DEA, find out their position on this and we need to consult with their operations. I'm going to inform Travis and Murphy and get them on board and by the time I'm done doing that I want you back in here with everything you have about this shipment coming in. There's going to be more backup than a world trade meeting on this and I want the whole team brought up to speed before we take it anywhere else. We clear on that?"

Ezra gave a short nod and stood, wanting to tell Chris that he appreciated his having faith in him only to be

interrupted by a nervous JD filling the open space behind him and used the distraction to take his leave.

"JD, I need you to look into some transport movements for me…" He looked up when JD didn't immediately respond and noticed the younger man's anxious expression. "What is it?"

"Ah… I didn't want to disturb you… but I thought you should see the morning paper..."

Chris frowned with impatience as the young agent hesitated. "Well bring it in."

JD moved in and handed over a late edition newspaper, thinking he should have just left it on his desk and been done with it as he watched his boss scan the front cover, seeing his scowl deepen as he read the headline. There was a red tinge flaming his cheeks as he took in the massive front photo of Levitz at a press conference with a smaller photo of Benning below him, the headline reading `Denver Needs No Secret Police!'

Looking up at JD after a long moment, Chris shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this guy."

**..**

**Confessions of a Kerbside Biker**

Vin let out a deep breath, but continued to feel the tension in his stomach as he opened the door and headed back out into the more natural light of the diner. He was determined now to get some answers to the questions that had started to pile up around him. Foremost on his mind was finding out what they had planned as his 'surprise' and then he needed to find out what the deal was with Benning and Larabee.

Refreshed from the simple act of washing his face, he made his way back around to the counter just in time to see the glass doors open and three men enter all wearing cheap, matching dark suits.

"You're early." He heard the old lady say as she pulled her small frame up to its full, unimpressive height, her tone anything but friendly as she squared off with the newcomers from behind the counter.

"Now now Mrs Wells, is that any way to greet a friend?"

Nettie shot him a look of disgust. "You're a lot of things, Guy Royal, but friend ain't one of `em."

A flash of anger crossed Royal's face and he stepped closer and leant on the counter, his frame threatening as his height towered over the frail-looking woman. He was apparently not concerned by the three rough men sitting behind him at the booth, finishing their breakfasts.

"I'll let that go, seeing's how you're about to make me some of that fine coffee of yours… but you open that mouth of yours again to me like that and I'll take my money and burn this place down before I leave. You got that?"

Nettie said nothing, only turned her back on him as she headed for the coffee pot.

Vin didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew that he didn't like the tone the man had used with the old woman. Looking at the rest of the boys as he approached, he could see that they were not concerned enough to move. He did know, however, that they would back him up, no matter what their opinion of the situation was.

"There a problem here?" He asked, walking up close to the newcomers and leaning casually on the counter.

Royal turned his attention to Vin, studying him a moment before turning around and noticing the remaining men as if for the first time. Still, he did not seem concerned by them, which Vin considered to be either odd, stupid or both on the man's part.

"Nothing that concerns you," the older man said dismissively and turned back to the counter as Nettie served the coffee.

Vin saw that her hand was shaking slightly, whether from anger or fear he could not be sure and slowly turned to face the three men, one lean hip resting against the wooden counter. Hooking a casual thumb through his belt he looked settled, showing the men that he had no intention of minding his own business.

"Sure _looks_ like there's a problem," he said, his eyes staying on Royal, apparently the ring leader of this little group of small-time criminals.

Nettie looked up and it was then Vin saw that it was definite anger in her face, which overrode her fear.

Suddenly Royal was all smiles. "There's no problem here. The businesses around here, they love me. They give me gifts."

"Just before ya drive 'em outta business."

At that Royal's eyes narrowed, but his smile stayed in place as he stepped toward Vin, his hand outstretched in greeting. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm Guy Royal."

Vin's own hand stayed by his side as he eyed the proffered hand but did not take it.

Royal's smile faltered before it was put back in place. "Obviously you boys are from out of town, am I right?"

Vin's only answer was a cold glare and turning to the other men, Royal saw the same steely expressions on their faces, their food forgotten. They were ready to back Vin up at the slightest move, not liking any man who wore a suit, let alone these guys.

"Well then, you probably wouldn't know that I have an agreement with your club. I've been in charge of the territory this land falls on since before your club moved in. This is my land. Billy and I have an understanding that my cut of profits is not to be disturbed. Not here, nor at any other business in my territory."

Vin's eyes narrowed as he looked at Nettie, seeing the outrage heighten in her frame. He would bet that she was contemplating launching herself at the man's throat, despite her obvious disadvantage in size and that almost brought a smile to his face.

Royal continued, slightly unnerved by the silent judgement he saw reflected in the long-haired biker's eyes and his voice showed his anger. "You have a problem with that you better take it up with your boss. In here, whatever I want is mine." With that he reached out and lifted his coffee cup to his lips to demonstrate his point, returning the cup to the bench a little too forcefully, betraying his agitated state.

Vin's brow raised a little and a grin lit his lips. Faster than anyone anticipated he moved his hand up to the counter, causing them all to flinch and move back in response. All he did, however, was reach over and take the closest cup of coffee that sat untouched before the man beside him. He too, brought it to his lips in a parody of Royal's actions, taking a slow sip and giving the man an infuriating wink filled with pure cockiness. Finally, he put down the cup, with demonstrated calm and precision.

"Well then, we definitely have a problem," he told them, "Cos I've decided this place ain't on yer list'a friends no more."

Royal looked from Vin and turned to the remaining men who had suddenly stood up behind him.

"Now look. I've been dealing in this town since before you could walk and when you leave I'll still be running things, so you best just take yourselves back to your camp and talk this over with your boss. He'll tell you to back well away from this." He turned to Nettie, as if the point was closed. "Now just give me the cash you owe me and we'll be on our way."

Nettie moved toward the cash drawer, but a quickly shot hand around her wrist from Vin stopped her from opening it. He shook his head slightly and she pulled her hand back, seeing the determined glint in his blue eyes as his soft voice spoke with menacing order.

"Ya ain't givin' this scum another cent, ma'am, ya just go on about yer business an' let us deal with sendin' the trash on its way."

Royal was fuming. "You don't need this kind of trouble," he warned, finally taking a good look at Vin and committing his face to memory. "I'm telling you one last time to back the hell away before you realise what you've walked into. Nobody crosses me, not even you people." This last he said with a derisive look that encompassed them all. "Curly, get our money, we're leavin'."

Standing closest to Vin, Curly looked first at the steely blue eyes boring over his shoulder before pushing his stool back and standing up.

"Try an' take that money an' I guarantee ya barely live ta regret it."

It was the quiet, softly spoken promise that stopped Curly in his tracks and he looked at his boss for some sort of reprieve.

"God dammit, I said get the money!" Royal was nearing the end of his control, seeing his own men baulk under the command of this dirty lowlife almost undid him.

Vin just stared Curly in the eye until the man was beyond speech.

"Damn you to hell, Curly, I'll get it myself."

Royal turned and ran smack into Ivan's chest.

"Have ye not goat a home tae go tae?" He nodded to the door.

Royal spun and turned to Vin again, but then a sudden change came over him and an evil smile lit his mean face.

"Alright, son. Have it your way for now. But hear this, you might walk away from this today, but I'll be seein' you real soon. And it's not only me you'll be dealin' with, your boss sure ain't gonna like it when I tell him how you disobeyed his orders."

Vin merely smiled in return, his lip curled as if he found the confrontation amusing. "Best ya be on yer way now," he said with a definite lift of his chin toward the door.

"While you can still walk." Cheese added, and received a thump in the shoulder from Bruce in return for his lame threat. " _What_?" he said, exaggeratedly rubbing his shoulder.

Ivan moved aside and Royal and his men headed toward the door, the older man stopping and turning again before they left. He pointed a finger at Nettie. "You'll pay for this," he promised her before taking another step back toward the door, his finger re-aiming at Vin. "This is _my_ damn territory, boy."

Vin's eyes glared back across the distance. "Ours too."

With that Royal's face gave a final scowl before turning his back to them all and taking his leave, his two lackeys following him out the door.

After a moment Nettie let out the breath she'd been holding, turning her sharp gaze on Vin.

"Well, I appreciate you takin' up my cause like that son, but he's right. You're boss does know about it, and he won't like you disobeying his orders like that."

"What orders? We're from out of town, we didn't know any better," Bruce grinned, flipping money on the counter to cover their meal.

"Yeah, we bikers ain't the smartest fellow's don't ya know?" Cheese grinned.

"Comin' from you, that ain't funny. _While you can still walk_... and people wonder why you're called Cheese. Those cheesy, lame-ass lines hurt to listen to."

"I thought he got his name that time he got the clap back in school so bad the doc said they should just burn it off and be done with it," Rizzo said as they moved toward the door.

They argued their way out the door, leaving Vin to stand at the counter alone for a moment. Nettie enclosed a weathered hand over the sleeve of Vin's jacket, nodding once, sincerity shining in her eyes along with a keen wisdom.

"Thank you..."

"Vin," he supplied for her, before motioning as if tipping his hat to her. "And any time, ma'am."

"I ain't used to gentlemanly behaviour."

He pushed off the counter with his hip. "Ah hell, I ain't no gentleman. I think a woman of your courage deserves a little backin' up."

And then he grinned, and the transformation of his face caused her to hold her breath. Bruises be damned he was a handsome one.

"Well I'm indebted to ya." She nodded toward the back of the shop. "I live just out the back there, you need anythin' when you're out this way again you just let me know."

He gave only a short nod, but there was gratitude in his eyes before he turned and headed for the door. Watching him leave, she had the distinct impression that it would not be the last she saw of him. He turned at the door.

"Ya best take care now, he'll be back, sooner or later."

She nodded and to his surprise raised a rifle up above the counter. "I'll be ready."

Vin laughed, a natural sound that left his lips in a husky expulsion of air as he saw the new Italian made gun,

modelled after the infamous Spencer Carbine. Somehow the gun suited her and he saw that she handled the

weapon with startling ease.

"I bet ya will."

Again Nettie followed his back as he left, remembering the sound of the laugh he had given as she watched him favour his right leg as he headed out the door. She would bet that laughing wasn't something the boy did easily and as she put her treasured rifle back under the counter, she realised she felt strangely happy to have brought it about.

Outside Vin swung a leg over his bike and reached for the ignition, stopped by Rizzo before he could start his engine.

"Any more old ladies you wanna save `fore we head into town?"

"Perhaps there's some lost animals need a home, some orphaned kids…" Bruce added, settling into his own seat.

"Ye never said ye had such a sweet spot fir auld things."

Vin looked at Ivan and then gestured to his bike, deflecting the attention from himself neatly. "She's younger'n that neglected piece a' shit ya ride. Fifty says it don't make it ta the city."

Ivan puffed out his chest. "That's ootay order." Then he stuck out a hand and they shook on the bet. "You'll be eatin' those words," he promised as everyone's engines, bar his, roared to life once more. Holding his ignition down he cursed, watching the back of Vin's bike as it left him behind and muttering, "Wise bastard," as he finally took off.

An hour later and Vin was standing on the side of the main highway exit to the city, happy with the fifty dollar note that now sat in his back pocket while the Scotsman-come-Texan scowled, tools spread out on the ground where he knelt before his bike, trying not to burn himself as he fiddled with various hoses and parts trying to eliminate the cause of his failing engine.

It had been funny for a little while as they'd all ribbed Ivan over his machine's demise, but now they were all getting testy from standing in the cold on the side of the road while the morning stretched towards noon without gaining any warmth. Any second it was going to pour down with rain and Vin knew it wouldn't take much to tip their anger over the edge. Finally, it was three innocent words from Cheese that set them all off.

"It's gonna rain."

Bruce took one look at his friend's arms, held out as if to judge the precipitation level and exploded. "Fucking

weather genius!" He turned on him and pointed wildly to the menacing sky. "What gave it away, was it the big fuckin' black bad-ass clouds hangin' right over our heads? Or the fact that it hasn't stopped raining since we set foot in this miserable fucking city?!"

Cheese looked genuinely shocked that his words had provoked such an outburst and looked at the other guys as if to say 'what's up _his_ ass?'

"I ain't sittin' here waitin' on this pig." Rizzo said, kicking a boot out to the tyre of Ivan's lifeless ride as the first

tentative drop fell from the sky.

Ivan held his wrench up at Rizzo in response, his temper mounting. "Go oan, do it! Kick it again! Ahhh dare ya!"

Rizzo grinned suddenly at the childish taunt and cocked his head to the side as he looked down at the big Scotsman, mustering up a poor accent to deliver his words with. "Aye, but do ye _double_ dare me?"

Ivan scowled, pushing himself off the ground and waving his wrench around like a knife. "Ah'll physical-fuckin' challenge ye in a minute ye stupid git! Ah'm fuckin' well fed up wi yer shite. Ah'll shove this wrench so far up yer arse that ah'll pluck those fuckin' hairy eyebrows of yers from the roots."

"We could just call for a tow…?" Cheese said hesitantly. Calling for a tow was a final resort, he knew. One of the first tests a probate had to pass in joining the club was to pull apart his own bike completely and put it back together again in one night. Still, he thought, feeling the rain build, why should they have to stand in the rain when a bike shop was not that far away? They weren't trying to pass a test now.

Ivan shook his wrench at Cheese in disgust. "Ah'm not puttin' mah Bell oan no fuckin' truck jist tae git it back aw scratched tae fuck. Ride oan ahead if ye likes boys, I'll meet ye at the pub later."

They stood there in silence a moment, weighing the option of leaving or staying. Normally they wouldn't leave a friend in such a situation, but the rain was getting to them all.

"I'll stay and give ya a hand." Vin offered and Ivan nodded his thanks as he returned to the broken down machine.

Vin couldn't say that he wanted to stand around in the rain any more than they did, particularly since his side was really starting to annoy him now and he could feel himself getting warmer than was natural for the weather, but he was trying to delay reaching the city. If he wasn't with them, the boys certainly couldn't carry out the surprise they had planned. Besides, if anyone was going to give over any information now, it would most likely be Ivan, grateful for the hand in fixing his bike. Cheese would have been his first point of attack, but he hadn't been able to get him alone.

Bruce rubbed his hands together and headed for his bike. "I ain't arguin', so long as its not me freezin' my ass off on the side of the road. See you suckers at the bar. Don't forget about tonight," he told Ivan, winking at Vin.

Rizzo clipped him on the shoulder as he went past. "Enjoy this fine Denver weather now!"

He watched them ride off while Ivan rummaged in the leather bag strapped to the back of his seat, producing a flask and tipping it straight to his lips. "Ahh, that's the spot."

He handed it to Vin who tasted the fiery scotch and had to admit it slid nicely down to his stomach.

"Let's see what we've got here," he said, crouching down to see where Ivan was at and waiting a full five minutes before trying to pry information from him.

"So... what's he talkin' 'bout – what's happenin' tonight?"

"Eh, dinnae be tryin' tae git the answers outae me, ye ken I cannae hold mah tongue."

Vin smiled as he checked a spark plug, then frowned at the state of it. Before he could comment Ivan swore.

"Ah know, ah know, she's in bad shape. Ah've been replacin' them plugs like there's no tomorrow, ah jist haven't had the time tae git tae the engine fir a while." He reached up and patted the fuel tank. "Ah wee bit ay love's all she needs."

"Can't believe yer still runnin' points… we're in an electric age ya know."

Ivan looked a little sheepish. "Ah sais tae the boys ah'd never convert her, but she's ready fir the scrap heap if I dinnae do somethin'…"

Vin shook his head. "Well I'm guessin' the points're shot, just from the way she was soundin' this mornin'."

"Yeah, figured as much, I wis gonnae replace `em at the shoap."

Vin looked up at the sky, which was still threatening to unload on them. "Guess we can clean `em up fer now, just get back ta town and sort it out there... what's the gap?"

"Dunno, jist been guessin' fir a while now."

Vin shook his head and stood up, heading for his own tools at the back of his bike and hoping to find a gauge to measure the distance of the points. "Ya know, ya wanna ride an' old thing like this ya really should keep her in shape."

"Ah know, I jist haven't had the time lately an'… well… I been thinkin' `bout tradin' her."

Vin was shocked. After all the protest and outrage he showed in defending his `Clara Bell'?

"Jist don't be tellin' the boys now. Ah'm gonnae tell em ah won a new ride in a sweepstakes or somethin'."

Vin laughed. "I don't think they're gonna buy that." He moved back with his tools and they got to work while the rain held. "Tell ya what, tell me 'bout tonight an' I won't say anythin'…"

Ivan grunted as he unscrewed the remaining spark plug. "Yer gonnae git me in trouble if they find oot ah's rabbitin' oan tae ye."

"I won't say a thing," Vin said casually, removing a gasket as he felt a few drops of rain hit his face. "This rain'd better hold off a little bit longer or we really _are_ in trouble. I was thinkin' it has something ta do with the cops that were there that night, or maybe that Chief that beat on me in the hospital, now _there's_ someone I plan on payin' back in full," Vin prodded, using his casual tone to probe for the much needed information.

"Ah'm sure ye would, but it's naw him…"

"Hmm.."

Vin continued to work, pressing the bigger man with his silence and grinning when he cracked after half a minute.

"Awright! But dinnae fuckin' say anythin' or they'll take me oot, enday fuckin' story!" Ivan couldn't help it, especially considering Vin's help was so appreciated right then.

"Not a word. _Man_, look at this mess in here, the wire's all corroded…"

"Settle doon, ah done told ye ah's replacin' the whole system."

"So if it's not the Chief, who we hittin'?"

"That cop'a yours."

Vin frowned. "Of mine?"

Ivan was preoccupied again with his bike and could not see Vin's alarmed face.

"Aye, the one in charge th'night they took oot Keg an' the lads." He looked up and nodded at Vin's side, "An' you."

Vin nodded slowly as if remembering, although the constant pain at his side wasn't about to let him forget, then seeing Ivan's expectant grin turned up toward him, he smiled slowly in response.

"Well, that's a surprise worth waitin' for. When?"

"Tonight, after we finish ye chores fae Billy. Goat a bomb ready for his car."

As Ivan looked down once more, Vin let his smile drop. He had to warn Larabee.


	17. Opposing Forces

A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to the those of you that have reviewed. It's an old story I know but I'd be lying if I didn't say it didn't totally motivate me to keep updating faster this time round! (not to mention make my day when I see people are reading it :)) This story was always a little convoluted and part of my aim was to simplify it a bit as it originally got a bit out of hand with all of the different character-agendas going on, so I'm trying to do it justice this time round without it becoming a 9 million page fiasco. Thanks for your patience and if you have any feedback at all, I always love to hear it, I am always looking for ideas and a different point of view.

..

**Part 17. Opposing Forces**

Orin Travis entered Chris's office with Murphy close behind him. Since the ATF Captain had called them an hour before they had been busy men, knowing that if there was a grain of truth in the lead to the drug shipment, this could well be the break they needed, not to mention they could use the bust to give Benning back some much needed credibility.

Greetings were brief as they all wanted to get down to business but Chris had one thing he wanted to discuss first.

"Have you seen this?" he said, almost hissing the words as he pushed the morning paper across the desk towards them.

When the two men exchanged a look as they seated themselves Chris knew that they had.

"What the hell is Levitz playing at? He basically told the press he thinks Wilson's guilty of everything they are accusing him of and that the city would be better off without all of the `secret departments and in-house bureaucracy'. What is this guy on?! Does he think he can strap a tin star to his chest and handle all the cowboys who get out of line on his own? What age is the man living in? He's doing more harm than good in his position."

Orin beckoned Chris to take his seat. "I know this isn't easy on you and it's not easy on me either. Will is an old friend of mine too, we go way back, hell I appointed him, but like I told you this morning, we need to deal with what we can handle one step at a time. We need to keep ourselves thinking clearly about what we do and not react in anger, or from lack of sleep," he said pointedly.

Chris sighed at that, knowing his lack of sleep was making him crankier than hell. Still, he pointed at the paper. "He wants to live by the old way, but he can't do it any more. He's damaging our image and in the end

he's only going to make things worse for this city."

Travis's brow puckered as he looked at the paper, but when he met Chris's angry glare again, there was resolve in his eyes. "He won't be making noise for much longer, you'll just have to trust me on that, but the man's been around long enough to remember the ku klux governing the state and he's not easy to dismiss. It's taking some time, but I want it done right. I don't want him finding a loophole to crawl through once we step him down."

Chris studied Travis's face a long moment before giving a short nod. He was relieved to hear that at least action was under way, but wished things would move faster where Levitz was concerned. The man was pure arrogant imbecile, as far as he could tell.

"I've just had a call you may be interested in," Orin told him, knowing they had other business to move on to. Seeing he had Chris's attention he went on. "Someone's been trying to dig into Tanner's background."

Chris's eyes narrowed. "Someone?"

Orin nodded. "There are a couple of people we have been investigating for a short time. We've suspected them of working for the Joker's for a while now, keeping an eye on them."

"Did they find anything?"

"Only the information planted by his department when he went in. We're keeping an eye on them, at this point, it's better to leave them where they are, we've even fed them some false information a time or two."

Chris thought about that. Why were they looking into Vin now?

"I take it he hasn't called yet?"

Chris looked at Murphy and for a second wondered if he meant Tanner, who he was still waiting to hear from, or at least give some sign that he was still alive and kicking. He wondered what he had heard about Benning and what he was thinking. Next time he saw his latest recruit he was going to have to go over some rules of contact. He had hoped he would have some information on the haul and wished for once that things were not moving so quickly.

"Vlahov?"

Murphy nodded.

"No. Ezra thinks it will be any minute though, given that he rarely does any business until after noon."

"I have two Mobile Enforcement Teams ready for briefing. We've dedicated a lot of resources to watching the

transport into and out of this state but we can't be everywhere at once. If this is the real deal it's going to be a major disruption to supply. With quantities like that each month, they'd have to push it out of the metro area."

He had already put all border patrols on alert, for the ultimate aim was to find the source of the supply. Seizing the haul at any point was a bonus, but the closer to the source they got, the better it would be to finding the suppliers origin.

"I'm still concerned with Vlahov's motivation for disrupting his own supply," Orin said, a slight frown on his brow. "As Chris said earlier on the phone, it's likely he has his own supply lined up and wants to cut the bikers out. It's happening a lot around the country. They still have a lot of control, particularly bringing the goods up out of Mexico, but importation from overseas is fair game and there's been a growing complaint over the quality of the Mexican produce. If Agent Standish is right and this is mainly MDMA, he'll most likely be using his Western European connections to bring it into the country. As you both know, the last two shipments seized in New York came from the Netherlands."

"So theoretically he would have to have his own supply in place and ready to go if he wants to keep up with the demand," Chris said thoughtfully.

Murphy nodded. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, he's giving us a major haul and could be covering his own shipment somewhere."

"Then we raid his club as well, co-ordinate it to happen at the same time," Orin decided. "I don't think he'd be stupid enough to assume we won't be watching his every move after this, so it could be a one-off haul."

Murphy's brow rose. "In which case this 'theoretical shipment' could actually be a major load..."

They thought it over a moment before Murphy continued, looking at Chris. "Makes sense. If we're right about his motives, it would be the perfect time for him to move his own supply."

"Or not so perfect," Chris smirked. His gut was telling him they were onto something. Big.

Murphy grinned back but Orin dampened their moment. "If that's the case, let's just hope he's not as smart as he thinks he is."

Chris's thoughts turned to Ezra, he certainly wasn't going to like this plan. Just as he had that thought there was a knock at the door and the very man he'd been thinking about entered, a stack of folders in his arms.

Ezra knew he'd walked in on something big when Chris did not meet his eyes straight off. He gestured to the phone.

"They're putting his call through now."

Chris winced at that. No time to tell Ezra the new plan... The phone rang and he exchanged a glance with Travis.

"Take a seat, Ezra," Travis told the Southerner.

Ezra came further into the room and sat in the remaining chair while Chris picked up the call, knowing something was going on by the silent communications being shared around him.

"Larabee."

"Mr Larabee. I trust you got my package last night."

"I did, although what help you thought that was I'm not sure, it didn't change anything."

Vlahov paused a moment. "But it was still more than you had, no?" When Chris didn't respond he continued. "Then perhaps I have something that you _will_ be grateful for."

Chris smiled at that. "Perhaps you do."

Vlahov's voice then became hurried, as if he were suddenly paranoid of being overheard. "Midnight tonight you will find a truck at the Empire Warehouse facility, bay number four."

"And?"

"And if you look into it, I think you will find a great reward for your time."

"You know, there must be an old saying somewhere about taking help without having to give something in return..." He looked at Ezra, purposely stirring him as he went on. "I think it has something to do with saying hi to a crocodile."

Ezra looked pissed while Vlahov was confused by the unfamiliar reference, but understood what Larabee was saying none the less.

"I expect nothing in return. Let us just say that our goals are the same."

"And you really think that I'll just let you take up the slack left by the Jokers once they're gone?"

The line was silent a moment before Vlahov repeated his words, not denying he had intentions of doing just that. "I expect nothing... Of course once the streets are clean from this filth, it will be a fresh palette. I cannot assure you that others will not step in."

Chris heard the line disconnect and replaced the phone. Vlahov was a confident son of a bitch. He looked at Ezra a moment before turning to the rest of the men.

"Midnight tonight, out at the new Empire Warehouse facility, bay number four."

"OK, we've all got things to do to get this happening." Murphy looked at Chris, nodding towards Ezra. "I want to know everything I can about the nightclub. I don't want any mistakes tonight. We need something to come from this, for Wilson's sake."

Ezra's eyes flashed from Murphy to Chris. "I'm sensin' I've missed somethin' important."

Chris knew Ezra was not going to be happy. "We were just discussing Vlahov's situation before you came in. Given the timing of his tip off, we think it's a likely time for him to be moving his own shipment."

He was indeed pissed off but a hiked brow was his only give-away. "And how do we know that he _has_ a shipment."

"You said yourself that he has to meet demand. If he's giving us this haul he has to have his own supply ready for distribution. You told me there was a storage area beneath the complex that you had yet to access."

Ezra shook his head. "I was under the distinct impression you wanted to keep Vlahov in our confidence. Do you not all agree that the information he is handin' us is of great benefit to our case? Tearin' him down so early in the game would not be in our best interest."

Chris's expression did not waver. "Have you considered that once we have the haul the bikers are going to know how we found out and they're going to take him out regardless?" He could see by Ezra's expression that he had indeed considered that. "If we don't clean him out before they do we'll be back to square one and he'll have his goods out on the street before the week is out."

Ezra thought about this and had to admit that he was more pissed off at the fact that he'd been excluded in the decision to storm Vlahov's club than he was about the decision itself. He did think there was much more to be gained from keeping his trust and he didn't agree with taking him down prematurely, but Chris was right and he knew it. Sadly, he was used to having people going behind his back, so he was more than shocked when Chris seemed to have read his mind.

"This discussion happened five minutes before you walked in. I know he's your contact, that he is just starting to trust you, so I'm asking you, do you think the benefit of sitting on this outweighs the chance that we are right? Do you think what more we could learn from him by watching him is worth losing a shot at stopping this shipment from hitting the streets?"

Ezra looked at the picture behind Travis's desk for a quiet moment without seeing it, appreciating that his Captain had asked him to weigh in. When he looked back he gave a nod of agreeance. "I do think that the club will go after him. We will need to get to him quickly before they do. Perhaps he will be willing to offer more information in order to make a deal once he is in custody."

Chris smiled with a small nod, happy that Ezra was on the same page and Ezra was a little disturbed by the amount of satisfaction he took from that look.

"I've got some planning to do and then I'll be back to go over the club with you, Agent Standish." Murphy looked at Chris. "We can brief our teams together in a few hours."

Orin rose and walked with Murphy, apparently deep in thought. Chris followed them to the door then called him men together.

"Through Ezra's contact at the club we've had a lead on a haul of drugs coming into the city tonight at midnight, but we'll need to work fast to get some background information and we'll be working with the DEA on the bust." He looked at JD. "I need you to look into Empire's transport patterns for me. The truck we're looking for is apparently going to be at bay four of their new warehousing facility. I want to know where it's coming from."

As JD nodded, he turned to Buck. "Buck I need you to pull up everything on significant DEA MDMA busts in and around the city in the last year." Finally he looked at Nathan and Josiah. "I need you guys to head out there, look around and get a feel for the place." He didn't need to tell them to be discreet. He addressed them all. "There's a second part. Murphy is also organising a team to make a coinciding hit on the club tonight. We believe Vlahov may be holding his own supply in the building. If we're right, it could be a major bust. We'll be meeting again with Murphy in two hours so we need move quickly if we're going to pull this together." He grinned then. "It's show time boys, it's going to be a big night."

..

Vin couldn't decide if he was going to freeze death from the outside or melt within his own skin when he finally pulled into the bike repair shop with Ivan an hour later. The rain had held until they'd gotten the bike running, but it had caught them ten minutes shy of their destination and they were thoroughly soaked. He had the nagging suspicion that it wasn't just rain coating his skin, though, he was sweating and the headache that had started earlier had now made its way around from the back of his skull to the front. He needed to get another dose of the antibiotics he'd left behind and that gave him an idea on how he might get away for an hour or two.

As they pulled up they saw a side roller door open in response to the noise of their pipes and a massive man

waddled out to greet them under the cover of the roof's overhang, his arms working over the girth of his beer belly to beckon them to park inside out of the rain.

Vin felt the warmth of the concrete repair area the second he cut his engine but still leant forward and leant heavily on his fuel tank, enjoying the raw heat that was coming up from his now silent bike. He was tempted to wrap himself around the exhaust if it would take the chill out of his spine.

"Your friends stopped in and said you'd be coming in. Have a bit of trouble?" he asked them needlessly, eyeing Vin's cut and bruised face and seeing that he was obviously exhausted. The man did not look well at all, he thought. "Big night?" he asked him, thinking he might be hung over and maybe gotten into a fight.

Neither man responded, with Vin not even looking up and Ivan shivering as he dismounted and leaned his bike onto its stand. For a second the tall man had an impulse to kick his Clara Bell over, but just managed to quell the urge. He finally looked at the overly welcoming mechanic. "You're Mike?"

The massive man nodded and extended his hand. Ivan didn't offer his name nor his hand, just gave him an

assessing look. He nodded towards his bike. "Ah'll be workin' on her here, I jist need some parts."

It wasn't a request and after sorting through the distorted words, Mike instantly nodded, making a show of wiping his still preferred hand on the material stretched tightly over his belly. "Sure, ok. The Denver boys always come out and see me. Anything you want."

Ivan held his look a moment and then nodded as a counter bell rang out.

"I'm on my own today, so just call out if you need anything," Mike told them and then gave Vin another look as he slowly ambled away. The drenched man had yet to speak or move, his wet hair now covering the pale skin of his face as he leant forward over his fuel tank with his arms hanging down toward the heat of his engine.

Ivan, too, finally noticed that Vin had yet to get off his bike and poked him in the shoulder. "Ye run oot a'steam?"

Vin made a grunt of response and then lifted his head to look at Ivan.

Ivan whistled. "Well, look at ye. Ye look like ya rode tae Texas an' back."

"I forgot the pills the docs gave me when I left the hospital. Think I might be comin' down with somethin'." His voice was rougher than usual and combined with his appearance, he came across as more than just 'coming down with something'.

Ivan peered harder at his pale skin. Back in Texas Vin had always looked tan and fit. It was the first time he really noticed the contrast and he put it succinctly. "Ye look like shite."

Vin smiled despite himself. "Thanks." With obvious effort he pushed himself to a sitting position, wondering if Ivan would make the call he wanted to hear without prompting.

"Ye can meet up with the boys if ye likes. I'm awright here."

Vin just gave a slight nod, not seeming to care what he did and finally Ivan got it.

"Mebbe ye should go tae the hospital, git some ay them pills `fore ye keel over."

Vin frowned a little, as if he hadn't considered that. "Maybe yer right."

"Call one ay the boys tae go."

Vin knew that Billy had told everyone that they were not to be seen riding alone. In times of high alert, or whenever there was trouble with police or rival clubs, this rule was always in place, so he hoped that Ivan wouldn't push it.

"Nah, I'll be ok. I'll just stop off and then head over to the bar, be there before you I reckon."

To his relief Ivan nodded and Vin looked around the shop a moment at the assortment of bikes, trying not to look too anxious to leave. He really wasn't relishing heading back out in the rain, but his heart was hammering with the need to make contact with Larabee.

His eyes strayed around a varied assortment of Harley's until he saw a bike that looked completely out of place. Ivan followed his gaze as he began searching for some tools and swore.

"Fuckin' rice burnin' piece ay shite."

Vin cocked his head to the side, studying the Suzuki he'd spotted and got off his bike, once more feeling the strain on his injured knee as he put his weight down. The bike was triggering a memory. He walked up to it and looked closer, noting the Japanese machine had hardly been ridden as he took in the number of miles on the dash.

Just then Mike made his way back to them. "Find what ya need?" he asked Ivan and looked curiously at Vin to see what he had found so interesting that he'd finally gotten off his bike.

Ivan was taking tools off the wall brackets as if he owned the place. "So far. Except mebbe coffee."

Mike got the hint immediately. "I'll make some up."

As he turned Vin stopped him with a question. "What's wrong with this one?"

Mike tilted his head to the side and walked over, thinking, then scratched his chin. "I dunno. She's been sittin' there a long time now, I'd have to look her up."

Vin frowned but let it go. The chance was slim that it was actually Agent Dunne's bike, but he'd look into it when he got the chance. He headed back to his own bike and got on again, kicking his stand up and walking it back out through the roller door. "See you in a while."

Ivan looked up. "Thanks fer yer help."

Vin grinned but didn't respond as he reached the open drive and started his engine again. It was time to take some action. His pipe roared away back out into the dismal rain and slow moving traffic. His first point of call: phone booth.

..

After sitting with a still seething Ezra for an hour going over all the information he had on Vlahov to date, Chris had met again with Murphy to co-ordinate their plans for attacking the two separate facilities. It was only after reluctantly promising Ezra that he could head up the nightclub operation - in conjunction with Murphy's DEA team, that his Agent had given him his full co-operation. He was by no means happy that his alliance with Vlahov was about to come to a drastic end, but he had accepted the fact that the decision was no longer within his ability to be swayed.

Once that was taken care of, Chris had finally had no option other than to fall on his face or take to his couch to catch a moment's sleep. He knew that if he didn't close his eyes for at least a few minutes, he wasn't going to make it through the afternoon, let alone the night. Murphy's parting words had been to tell him in no uncertain terms that he would be cutting him out of the bust if he did not get some rest and finally he'd given in.

So it was that as Vin stood shivering in the meagre shelter of a public phone booth, ignoring the looks of passers by on the busy city street, he found himself scowling as Larabee's cell phone rang out and diverted to voice mail. He'd shut the glass door of the booth to stop the rain only to realise it had no glass in the frame. He could have used his cell phone, but knew that there was always a chance of being traced and so had decided to seize the opportunity to use a pay phone while he had access to one so freely. Now he wished he hadn't bothered.

Hearing the phone ring out again he wished that the glass was there so that he could kick it out of it's frame himself. His rising temperature was getting the better of him and he was starting to feel the cold in every shard of bone that he had. Hanging up the phone again he reinserted his coins, deciding to call the main federal building and try and reach him in person there, before he had to leave him a message. He waited long seconds while the call connected.

"…how can I direct your call?"

"Captain Chris Larabee, department of ATF."

"Just a moment, please…"

A screech of tyres across the street had him looking up, catching the site of an irate driver throwing a fist up at a man who had tried to dash through the traffic in the rain. The side walks were crowded with people trying to take shelter between lengths of water washed pavement.

"I'm sorry Sir, Mr Larabee is currently unavailable at the moment, would you like to leave a message on his voice mail or would you like to speak to somebody else?"

Vin suppressed a curse as he brought up a hand to massage a now pulsing temple. The headache seemed to be on the move again, running down to the sides of his jaw and the back of his neck. He thought about asking for one of the other agents and then decided to leave a message first for Larabee, before he spoke to anyone else. He waited as she put him through, thinking on all of the information he had to pack into a short recorded message so that by the time the beep sounded he was rushing his words out and trying to keep up with his thoughts.

"You've reached Chris Larabee, please leave a message and I'll return your call…"

"Larabee its Tanner. I need ta speak ta ya right away. The tip-off ya got is -"

_"You can't park there!"_

Vin felt the tap on his shoulder just as the loud voice came at him from behind. He turned, the phone still in his hand, to see two uniformed policemen standing before him, no older than he was and decked out in wet weather gear, looking none too happy about being out in the rain. One of them pointed to his bike, parked next to the phone booth.

"You can't park there, you'll have to move it."

Vin didn't need to look at his bike to know he'd parked in a loading zone. He cursed inwardly, this was just what he needed. "No problem guys, I'm on my way." He just needed to finish his message, but they weren't leaving.

He should have seen it coming. They exchanged a meaningful look and the second man - a tall, extremely pale skinned, well-built officer - took a step forward. "Please step out of the booth and show us some identification."

For a second Vin contemplated telling them he was an undercover agent, but it was only out of sheer frustration and the thought was gone as quickly as it had come to his mind. No way in hell could it be made known there was a traitor in the biker ranks, not to anyone outside of his own team and their direct superiors. Besides, there were way too many citizens around to hear.

"Have I done somethin' wrong officer? Other than the parking?"

The man did not blink. "Just step out of the booth. _Now_."

Vin took a good look at their firm expressions, took in the derisive, yet curious glances of the people passing by, and resigned himself to the delay. What had he done bar wear a club jacket and park in a loading zone? Maybe he should have taken the jacket off and stashed it while he was on his own, yet part of him resented being accosted for no other reason than wearing it. He knew how precious his time was now and didn't need the delay, but knew that if he resisted them, it would only take up more time and make things worse. So it was that he hung up the phone and stepped back out into the light rain, the rest of his message still left unsaid.

..

Chris didn't know how long he'd slept, if he had at all, when he heard his cell phone beep from across the room on his desk. He was so tired, lying there in a half doze as he had been, that he wished he had turned it off completely, not put it in pager mode so that it would beep if anyone had called.

With a deep sigh he got up and went to see who the message was from, quickly seeing that it was an unknown number and they had not left a message, had just hung up. Twice. His first thought was that if it was important, the person would have left a message, or called back, but something told him it was odd. Moving around the desk, he looked to his office phone, saw that the message light was beeping red and dialled his code to listen to the messages.

As the recorded voice told him he had a new message his office door opened and Buck entered, saw that he was on the phone and quietly sat to wait.

_"Larabee its Vin. I need ta speak ta ya right away. The tip-off ya got is -"_

_"You can't park there!"_

Chris frowned as the voices became muffled and waited until the line went dead. He glanced at Buck, shaking his head slightly as he replayed the message, listening for anything he might have missed.

"What is it?" Buck asked.

Chris put the message on the speaker and they both listened to Tanner's urgent voice before it was cut off all of a sudden.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Chris said, disconnecting the call.

"Sounded like he was on the street. He could have been about to say anything about the tip-off."

"I need to find him, that didn't sound good and he obviously knows something about tonight. I was hoping he'd call in with some information." He looked thoughtful for a moment and Buck looked at his tired face.

"You get any sleep?"

Chris looked at his watch, seeing that nearly an hour had gone by. "A bit. Enough to get me by for a while longer."

He stood up. "I need to find Tanner, if he knows something I want to know what the hell it is. Is Murphy back yet for the meeting?"

"He just called, he's on his way up, says he's got some information from one of his teams and wants to go over it first before we meet. JD's got something for you too, from the search he did into Empire's transport movements and Josiah and Nathan have just come back from their drive-by of the area."

"What about you, what did you find on the DEA reports?"

"There hasn't been a lot in the last year. Murphy's asked Special Agent Swathers to come on board. He's on his way over too."

Chris nodded at that. Swathers was in charge of the Rocky Mountain Division and coordinated the cooperative efforts of the DEA Tasks forces and local police agencies in the state. Part of his role was to use money taken in seizures and redistribute it throughout the state as funding for investigation and training.

"He'll be able to fill us in on what the local agencies have been up to, there's been a lot of individual arrests and busts throughout the state since he started coordinating the deployment teams, but Murphy says there hasn't been any big hauls since Operation Green Clover. They have nothing on the Empire Facility in their investigations. If we hit the payload tonight, we'll pull in as much in that haul as they did after two years setting up."

"It's not about the biggest haul, Buck. Grabbing one truck is not the same, they shut down the entire operation from here to California with about sixty-eight arrests. If we need to sit and watch this until it moves we will. I'd like to stop the drugs hitting the street, but it would be nice to have someone to take down with the bust."

"Well it's a start, and it'll lead to more," he said with conviction.

Chris nodded and stood up, his mind going back to Vin's call. "Alright, I want to know where that call came from. Get someone looking into it while we have that meeting."

..

Vin allowed himself to be led under the shelter of a shop's porch, back from the road. Glancing into the windows as he walked, he saw that it was a jewellery store and his eyes briefly fell on a man inside as he shut the door and locked it in case the trouble got too close. The officer's addressed the people who were crowding under the shop's cover, telling them to go about their business, for what little that did.

To Vin's eyes, the number of people on the street seemed to grow if anything, although anyone close stayed far enough back to avoid any physical contact.

"Your identification please."

He reached into his jacket, trying not to hurry in his impatience.

"Slowly!" The officer barked anyway, suspicious over the pallor of his skin beneath the bruises. In his opinion, if the man they had stopped wasn't sick, he was probably high.

With deliberately slow movements Vin took out his wallet and flipped it open so the officer could see his

identification. Vin Turner and all of his history was perfectly displayed for the shorter, darker haired man's view as he took the wallet and studied the license. The blonde officer then ordered him to face the wall next to the shop's display window.

He sighed as he turned, not even bothering to argue the unwarranted search for he knew they wouldn't find

anything, especially not the knife he carried well concealed in his boot. He caught his reflection in the glass as he moved and for a second he objectively took the whole scene in; two uniformed officers, dealing with a scruffy, beat up biker. Rather than walk faster, people were slowing down as they passed, their curiosity making them pause to see what they could of the situation that was something out of the ordinarily dreary day for them as they shifted between work, shopping, or taking quick lunches.

The scene looked disturbingly real to him. He wasn't seeing an undercover agent acting out a run-in with the police, he was seeing a street thug being treated as expected by the crowd who looked on in disdain and morbid fascination. He wondered then what he would think, if he were one of them, watching on. Most of them would probably never have spoken to a biker in their life, would have never had any reason to think about them, other than when they saw them making headlines in the news. What would it be like to know nothing about them, to have never met one, let alone lived as one? _Nice_, is what he concluded. But he'd never had a say in that. His father had made that choice for him long ago. One way or another, it was in his blood.

The tall officer gave him a rough shove to let him know he wanted him right up against the wall and he stifled a grunt of protest as his body connected with the hard concrete. He turned his face to the side at the last second to avoid having his nose connect with the wall. He felt every movement against his ribs as he was searched for a weapon beneath his thick jacket while the remaining officer walked a short distance away and called for an ID check on his license. He had a fleeting wish that he had the club boys with him, if just for that moment. This would never have happened, the cowards would never have singled out one in a group. The time issue was bothering him, but he couldn't ignore the affront to his personal space either.

Finally the man told him to turn back around and gave him a rough tug on his arm to hurry him before pushing him back against the wall. For a moment Vin just stared at the man, his world tipping for the briefest of moments until once more his eyes retained their cool stare, showing how much he did not appreciate the treatment he was getting. This was one guy who was going to get what was coming to him, that much he knew.

They waited a moment while the smaller man listened on his radio and Vin saw by his face as he returned that he had discovered about his run in with the law only days ago.

His wallet was slowly handed back as the dark eyes looked at him in suspicion and distaste.

"I'd think you'd seen enough action this week Turner, being arrested for rape and all." He looked at his partner and they exchanged a glance.

"Not ta mention bein' acquitted an' all," Vin returned lazily.

They studied him a moment and again the darker man spoke. "You high?" He peered closer, not waiting for an answer. "You look high…"

His partner spoke up. "I thought you guys always travelled in packs?"

Vin tried to respond with as much calm and civility as he could. "I's just passin' by an' needed ta use the phone. Didn't know I parked in a loadin' zone."

The officers looked at each other and Vin realised his mistake. He'd been too civil and now they knew he wanted to get out of there in a hurry and would try and delay him longer, just to get a rise out of him.

"What's your business in town?"

Finally Vin's eyes narrowed. "That'd be none of _your_ business."

The tall man looked over at his bike, parked on the road. "Everything in this district is my business. Maybe we should take a look and make sure there's nothing you're hiding over there?"

Now he was getting pissed off. Besides that, he had a gun under all of his clothes in one of his packs that could not be discovered or he wasn't going to be able to make a phone call until lawyers got involved. Still he said nothing, just stared back, letting them decide what they would. Anything he said would be taken as provocation, given their attitude.

A silent moment stretched where the officer's continued to weigh him up, trying to intimidate him into taking some sort of aggressive action, knowing he was in a hurry to use the phone. Finally the shorter man spoke to his partner.

"I think we should take a look to be on the safe side. This guy don't look like he's here for anything good."

Vin watched them take a step and debated asking them what their provocation was for wanting to look into his personal property. He'd had enough of the delay and was about to take his leave, whatever way it happened. Hopefully he'd get far enough that later he could have these two pinheads brought down a few pegs, but the dark man's radio cut in before he had to make a decision and a call came out for backup only a block away for a robbery in progress. He took the opportunity to take another step toward his bike.

"I'll be movin' on now, fella's, let ya get ta the real criminals… `less you wanna give me a ticket fer the parkin'."

"Matter of fact I do," the smaller officer said, already flipping open his book.

That'd be right, Vin thought. Just to piss him off they were going to ignore a robbery in progress, but he waited as patiently as he could until the little dickweed gave him his infringement for the parking, tearing it from his book like he was presenting him with a rare document of great importance. He had to go up on his toes to get closer to Vin's ear to whisper his parting words. "You stay out of trouble. Take a step wrong and one of us will bring you down, you got that?"

Vin almost grinned at the piss-ant, but his speech remained low and drawled. "Sure thing, officer. Wouldn't wanna piss off Denver's finest law enforcers now, would I? Where'd us good citizens be without you guys lookin' out for us?"

With hard looks the officer's departed and Vin finally turned back to the phone, knowing with certainty that he really was getting sick and that getting to help was becoming a priority.

The booth was occupied.

"God _damn_ it!" he looked down at his watch and again felt his vision cloud. He didn't need this… Time was getting away from him and he needed to get back to the boys to find out where the real shipment was going to be. Wearily he took a deep breath and pulled out his own phone, distancing himself from the small crowd as he dialled Larabee's number one more time.

**..**

**..**

Billy heard a knock at his door and glanced at the clock beside his massive, four post bed. Two o'clock. He supposed he should try and catch some of the day before it ended… With little regard for the woman tangled in the covers beside him, he threw back his own covers and got up, knowing he'd woken her when she made a slight mewl of protest, but not giving a damn. He couldn't even remember her name, had just known she'd be sharing his bed when he saw her enthusiastically jumping one of the boys on the staircase the night before.

The knock came again and this time he went to the door, not bothering to put clothes on as he opened it.

"What?"

Jake didn't blink. "Eddie just crossed the border."

He said nothing, but the slight narrowing of his eyes showed what he thought. He didn't want the club's Texan President in his territory, let alone in his house. He had plans that only Jake knew about and it was time to put them into action. Those plans would see his club become it's own entity, removed from the rules and restrictions and countless by-laws that the original and presiding Texas club oversaw. Better still, if he succeeded to the level he was aiming for, he would have control of the Texan chapter as well as his own.

"Meet me downstairs."

Jake turned and left and Billy closed his door to take a shower. The woman in his bed was now sitting up, with a smug smile on her face. She thought she'd won a prize last night in bedding the President. She was wrong.

"What the fuck are you smilin' at?"

Her face instantly dropped.

"Get your cheap ass outta my bed."

He didn't stick around to see her reaction, but as he stood under the hot water of his shower, he thought he could hear her swearing as she packed up her things, which didn't register enough to annoy him, his mind was somewhere else anyway.

When he'd grown up in Texas, the one thing he could not abide was the law. Now here he was, all these years later, and he was still forced to comply with someone else's demands. But it was only a matter of time now before he became the number one authority figure of his own little empire of men. He'd built up enough associates in this town to dominate the entire state. He didn't need the protection, nor the club name if it came down to it, any more. He had his own path to follow.

..

Even as Vin pressed the last button to dial Larabee's number he heard it. The noise that prompted a million curses a minute across the planet. The dreaded _battery is low _warning beep.

"No, no no no no…" he looked at the bars on his phone, just one flickering cell left. " _Fuck_!" Could this day _be_ any worse?! He eyed the phone booth, still occupied… He could just intimidate the guy into leaving, but he really wanted to get off that particular side walk before those cops came back, if just to avoid another unnecessary delay. He ran a hand across the back of his neck and felt the moisture coating his hot skin, or was it rain? Hell if he knew any more. He couldn't think. He should be cold right now, he did know that. He'd been cold a minute ago hadn't he? Another shiver chased his back and he continued to rub his aching neck as he held his phone to his ear and impatiently waited.

_Beep_.

He closed his eyes at the sound. When he heard the three successive beeps, he knew it would be all over.

Chris was about to enter the boardroom when he heard his phone ring again and quickly pulled it out of his pocket. There was no way he'd intended to turn it off for the meeting, not with Tanner out there somewhere trying to call in with news like he was.

_"Larabee."_

"It's me."

Chris walked back to his office to avoid noise, recognising the low drawl immediately. "About time. I got your

message. I was hoping you'd call in. You alright?"

"Yeah, just listen fer a second. My phone's nearly dead. They're going to try and take you out. Tonight."

Chris stopped walking. "How?"

"Your car, with a bomb. I'm meant to be with them."

_Beep._

"_Fuckin' phone!_ Look I'll call you again soon as I can find a phone that's safe."

Seeing they had no time to discuss the issue Chris quickly spoke. "Someone's been trying to pull information on you from within the bureau."

Vin paused at that. "What sort of information?"

"Just a general sweep, anything they could get. There's associates under investigation and one of them did a search on your name."

Vin recognised an opportunity when he saw one. This was the chance he needed to let Billy know how useful he could be to him, without having to let the information out himself. "This could be a good thing. I want to let them know about my last job description in the marines."

"They don't know?"

"No. Not that I was Special Forces."

"Why now?"

_Beep._

"I think it'll help get me closer to the president here. He'll be needing someone to help him if he really is going to aim for Eddie. I think it's the perfect shoe in."

Chris thought about that. "You sure?"

"Yeah, just need to protect my name is all."

"Ok, I'll see what I can do."

"Another thing, tonight you -"

_**Beep beep beep.**_

He actually threw his phone as he cursed, the battery coming loose as it hit the ground with a clutter. It just wasn't in him to keep it in his hand. If they couldn't put enough power in a phone to see out a few conversations how was anyone supposed to believe they could generate enough power to get to the moon and back? That alone had him believing the conspiracy theories.

Chris, too, looked at his phone in frustration. _Call ended._ He had Vin's cell number now but what was the point, the thing was obviously flat. Still, he'd heard enough for him to know something was seriously wrong. He turned on his heel and went back to the boardroom. Why couldn't things just sit all black and white - just once in a while?

Vin reached to pick up his phone from the pavement and as he did, felt his stomach rise into his chest and grabbed the wall for support out of shock, not expecting the sudden onslaught. A young couple looked at him oddly as they passed, not stopping to enquire about his health. He took a deep breath, swallowing the sick feeling just as he heard a noise that worried him more than the noise of his flat battery had. The unmistakable sound of Harley Davidson's approaching.

..


	18. Contact

**Part 18. Contact**

Not an hour later, Billy lit a cigarette and turned from his fax machine, smiling at the pages in his hands as he sat down on the leather couch in his office, facing Jake who had been waiting for him.

"Turner called in yet?" was his first question.

Jake shook his head. "No, but apparently he was stopped by some cops not long ago. His boys heard it over the radio and left the bar to go get him."

"Stopped for what?"

Jake shrugged. " I don't know, they were running a check on him when we picked up the scan."

Billy frowned. "Was he alone?"

Again Jake shrugged. "He shouldn't have been. You'll have to ask him when he gets back. So what do you want to do about Vlahov when tonight's over?"

"I'm not waiting until tonight's over. That slimy prick should know who it is that's ending his pathetic life."

Jake nodded. "Done. I've got some boys picking him up before he bolts anyway. So... Eddie..." he prompted.

Billy got up, stretching his back as he headed for his bar fridge. "Damn, that bitch nearly broke my back last night. Who the hell does she belong to anyway?"

Used to Billy's tangents, Jake didn't blink. "She came with Dermott." He smiled then, "Caught her blowin' him in Chook's office just the other day."

Billy scowled at that, truly worried for a moment. "Fuck, I'll probably catch somethin' if that idiot's been bangin' 'er."

He poured a drink and took a hefty gulp, needing to recharge after the night before. He walked to the door and made sure it was locked before suddenly turning, his face deadly serious as he went back to his desk and laid the pages he was still carrying on the desk for Jake to see.

Jake studied the images a long moment before whistling, his eyebrows hiked in surprise. He had to admit he was impressed. "Where'd these come from?"

Billy shrugged a shoulder, "One of our girls at the federal building. I asked her to look into him." He picked up one of the black and white prints, not the best quality but it clearly showed Turner in a marine's uniform, sniper rifle casually resting on one shoulder like it belonged there as he squinted through the sun back at the camera. "_This_ is how we're going to deal with Eddie. He's supposed to have been the best they had."

"What makes you think he'll side with us? And how come he kept this from the club?"

"Who says he did? I'll bet Sugar knows. Or maybe the kids got some demons. I don't think he enjoyed his time servin' or he wouldn't be so low-key about it. He probably wants to forget about it, but he'll get on board with us."

"Why are you so sure of that?"

Now Billy's face showed the true depth of the cruelty he was capable of. "Because we're going to leave him with no other option."

Jake waited, but when Billy didn't elaborate he prompted him. "And how are going to do that?"

"We'll start by taking away every reason for him to return back to Texas and then we'll give him enough incentive to stay."

Jake's frown deepened. "You want to take out Sugar?"

Billy swore at the name like it was a dirty word. "Eventually. But I thought we'd start with those he trusts most, without his boys surrounding him he'll be more vulnerable."

Jake thought about that. "They're with him tonight, his closest brothers."

"Then we'll start with them. Get word to Bale."

Jake took this new development in. He was used to Billy moving quickly once he had a plan set in his mind and he was used to seeing those plans carried out. He had to admit, this recruitment plan was interesting. "I like it." And he also had to admit, knowing that Turner was a trained killer did something for his respect for the man.

"I thought you might," Billy smiled in return. He was pleased that his instincts about Turner had been right. He had seen something in him from the onset and now he was positive he was the key to taking down not only Sugar, but Eddie too.

"They're going to take out that Larabee Agent tonight."

"They can do what they want so long as they're dead by morning." Billy was as happy as Billy could actually get. It seemed that things were truly going his way. "Now's the time," he told Jake. "I've known you most of my life, you've helped me put all this together," he opened his arms to encompass the room, the house, everything. "We've always said we don't need Eddie… I say we take him out _now_. Most of his boys are here already, we could take him out before he gets anywhere near the city. When things finally calm down, we'll run the Presidency from here, just like we talked about before."

Again Jake didn't blink. "We do this, we're gonna throw everyone into a panic. The whole club is headin' out here in the next day, can you imagine what'll happen when they realise Eddies been taken out?"

Billy took a long drag on his cigarette and another drink, letting the smoke out through his nose in a rush as he spoke. "We wont tell `em anything. Everyone'll just think he's been delayed and didn't make it."

Jake frowned. "They're gonna wonder when he doesn't show up, when none of them answer their phones."

"How many's he ridin' with?"

"Ten apparently."

"Is Matthers with him?"

He was thinking it would be good to hit the vice president at the same time.

"Yeah, they only left a few men behind. The rest are already here."

Billy nodded. "Then we take them all out."

He said this with absolutely no emotion. The fact that Jake was not affected in the slightest showed just how close, and just how cold, they both were. Jake put out his own cigarette and made his own drink, both thinking it through in the silence before Jake again moved to stand before Billy. In answer he held up his glass.

"To the new President of the Devil's Jokers."

Billy smiled a cunning, cruel smile, raising his own glass. "And to the new Vice President."

As the men celebrated their victory to come, delicate bare feet padded away down the hallway outside the heavy door. It paid to know what was going on around you, that was one thing Suzy had learned long ago.

..

Vin tilted his head to hear what direction the bikes were coming in from and straightened up, his worry confirmed when he saw it was Bruce and Rizzo riding towards him and watched as both men parked in the loading zone right next to his own bike and got off to join him.

"Can't leave you alone for a minute," Bruce said, shaking his head as he took in his appearance. "Ivan just told us you were headin' to the hospital, now I see why."

"How'd you know where I was?" Vin said, knowing it wasn't a coincidence they'd found him there.

"We were sittin' in the bar when the old radio guy came down and said one of our boys had been picked up. He said they'd called in for a check on your license. We were about to head out and help Ivan finish off anyway."

"_You_ were," Rizzo said with a scowl. "I was happy with my beer an' my warm bar." He moved closer to Vin, who looked like he was ready to fall over. "Ivan said you forgot some pills or somethin'?"

"Yeah, in Sugar's car."

"You don't look like you'll make it far."

Vin looked at his bike and then up at the infernally dark sky. "Reckon yer right."

"Jake called the bar lookin' for you, wants to talk to you before you head out tonight." Bruce informed him.

Vin frowned. "What about?"

"Fucked if I know. Whadaya doin' stopped here anyway?"

Vin reached down and picked up the pieces of his phone. "I felt it ring in my pocket but it went flat before I had a chance to answer it so I got pissed at the thing and threw it," he admitted, not having to lie at the last part.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, amusement showing on his face. "Is it broken?"

Vin shrugged, putting the pieces in his pocket. "It's flat anyway, won't know 'til I charge it."

"Well I'll follow ya in," Bruce told him. "Make sure you make it back without fallin' on your ass. You should call Jake first, see what he wants. We won't be back at the bar any time soon." He handed Vin a number scribbled on a beer coaster, a little worse for wear.

"Here, let me," Rizzo said, walking up to the booth. He simply opened the door and tapped the occupant's shoulder. The man turned around, shocked to see a biker staring him down. "Find another phone, buddy."

He man didn't have time to be angry, his fear won out and he just stepped out of the booth, simply handing Rizzo the phone, who immediately turned back and grinned at his friends.

"He high?" Vin asked as they stood watching, knowing Rizzo could hear him.

Bruce just smirked. "Probably... but he gets the job done."

Vin shook his head as he stepped forward and took the phone. The man had just done what he should have done. He needed to start taking advantage of his biker status.

"I'll meet you back at the bar," Rizzo told Bruce, heading for his bike.

"That'd be right, let _me_ freeze my balls off."

Listening as he dialled, Vin tried to get Bruce to leave. "Head back too, I'll join up with ya."

"Nah, I'll stick around. I actually believe in the not riding alone thing in this city. It makes sense."

He was going to try to convince him again when he heard Billy himself pick up on the other end of the line in time with the sound of Rizzo's bike heading off.

"It's Turner," he said, annoyed at the way his heart sped up at the sound of his father's voice.

"Where the hell've you been?"

"At the shop helpin' Ivan fix his ride."

"We called there, he said he took off. What did you get stopped for?"

"Parkin' in a loadin' zone."

"Why are you ridin' alone?"

"Had no choice... the boys are with me now," he tried to move the conversation forward. "They told me you were lookin' fer me."

Billy was quiet a moment, obviously debating whether to take further issue with Vin's disobeying the no riding alone policy and Vin was relieved when he let it drop.

"There's been a change of plans tonight."

Vin frowned, waiting.

"I still need you to speak to Bale, but I need you to hang around with your boys a bit longer."

There was a pause so Vin obligingly asked why.

"We've got a traitor working for us. He tipped the cops off about one of our trucks tonight. They're planning to seize it when it comes in."

"Who tipped them off?"

"That's not your concern. I need you to make sure they don't get in the building, I want them all taken out."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Christ an operation like that would be huge. "How many are we talking here?"

"Don't worry, there's enough security at the warehouse to start a war, I just want you to make sure everything goes to plan."

"And that plan is?" Vin was starting to get a bad feeling. They had warning, why not just move the truck before the cops had time to move in.

"We've rigged the truck to blow once they reach the ceiling compartment."

_That would do it... _ He tried to think ahead, but it wasn't easy, his brain just wasn't moving at the right speed to keep up with everything going on. "And the real haul?"

"We already moved it 'cross town."

"You need me to check on that while I'm out here?" He was pushing it, but he had to try.

"We've got that covered. Just worry about tonight. I need you to make sure Bale is going to move the rest of the stuff we agreed upon."

No problem there, he was more than worried. "I thought you said you just wanted me to have a chat with Bale. I never signed up for a fucking war with the cops."

Billy swore. "You won't be anywhere near the fallout. There's a tower across the complex you can watch from if you're worried about saving your own ass. Just make sure it gets done. I don't want those bastards to get inside. When you get there you'll see why."

Vin thought about that, it was a good chance to check the place out.

"I'll call you when it's done," he informed him abruptly and hung up. He turned to Bruce, anxious to speak to Larabee. He had to tell him everything he knew. That bomb was set to do serious damage tonight and on top of that, they had to find the real shipment before it was distributed.

"Change of plans?" Bruce asked, having listened in.

"You could say that. I'll explain later, why don't you head back to the bar and I'll fill you all in when I get there? If you guys want to pull out I'll handle it alone."

Bruce frowned as they reached their bikes. "Like hell you will. You can tell me while we're waiting, it'll be busy as hell tonight."

Vin was frustrated but knew there was nothing he could do to get rid of Bruce. He'd have to lose him for a while at the hospital and get to a phone. Warning Larabee was his first priority and so he hopped on his bike with no further protest.

It was a good hour later that he found himself staring longingly at the pay phone in the waiting room of the busy hospital and knew he would have to wait until he was alone to try and contact Larabee. He'd filled Bruce in on the change of plans and was surprised by his reaction. He was actually excited at the prospect of blowing up a stack of cops in one hit and said he wouldn't miss it for the world. He'd also mentioned that he thought the real shipment would be across town at the major truck repair workshop he remembered passing on the way in. How he knew that, Vin didn't know, but it was a start.

Getting anxious with the passing time he glanced at the stern, hard looking nurse who seemed determined to want to scowl him out of her ward and tried to will her with his eyes to hurry up and get to him. She had the frame of a wrestler and the obvious disposition of a seasoned war veteran. And she didn't like him. Funny how long hair and clothing could give someone such a bad impression. His rough look sure wasn't working for him now.

He almost found himself smiling at that, for every now and then, there was a slightly older, yet definitely more feminine, doctor who would come into the ward and smile at him every time she caught his eye... and funny how completely different women could be from each other.

Bruce nudged him, sitting next to him in the waiting room. "She's got a thing fer leather," he said knowingly, nodding toward the pretty doctor. In his vast experience, it didn't matter where the woman was from, how old she was or what she looked like, sometimes they just couldn't resist the allure of a man in leather riding gear.

Vin eyed the pay phone near the coke machine and tried again to think of a reason why Bruce shouldn't wait for him, but came up empty. Again. He tried to make his time useful none the less.

"Reckon I'll keep up tonight?"

Bruce looked at him sideways. "Keep up with what?"

Vin just raised his eyebrows.

"Damn that Scottish bastard, what did he tell you?"

Vin grinned then gave up the bluff. "Relax, he didn't tell me nothin', but I was kinda hopin' to see what I'm in for, seeings how I'm feelin' like shit an' all…"

Bruce looked at him again and thought maybe he had a reason for asking. He really did look like hell. "Fuck, don't tell any of the boys I told ya, just play along like you don't know."

Vin nodded, keeping his expression neutral and Bruce lowered his voice. He needn't have bothered, nobody had chosen to sit within earshot of them anyway and anyone who was already there had moved away to find another seat.

"We told Jake we wanted to take some action of our own for Keg, and for you, but he already had somethin' set up and said we could get in on it if we wanted, since we were headin' inta the city anyway. He's takin' out the guy that runs the nightclub you boys got shot up at, I think he's Russian or somethin'."

"What'd he do?"

"He must be the one that told the cops about the supply."

Vin thought about that. "Why? Were the cops onto him?"

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know the whole story. I just know he went to some Larabee guy."

"Larabee?"

Bruce grinned now. "_Your_ Larabee."

"My _what_?"

"The guy in charge the night Keg got taken out. He was probably the guy that clipped you."

Vin let surprise fill his face. "No kiddin'."

"He's in charge of a new team. Billy found out they've been put together to take his chapter out of Denver. He wants him taken out anyway. He's already taken out his boss."

Now Vin's brow did rise of it's own accord. Benning. They had to have set him up. "How the hell did he find all this out?"

"That cop that arrested you, beat you up?"

Vin nodded. Levitz, the sick son of a bitch.

"Billy's got him on the take."

He frowned now. "If he's on the take then why the hell did he come down on me like that?"

"That's what Ivan asked him, but Jake just said Levitz's time was up anyway, so not to worry about him."

Vin thought about that. There was more to it. He'd been set up that night in that room, he knew it beyond doubt. Someone had wanted to frame him over that girl and that someone had to have been Jake.

"So we're gonna take out this nightclub guy? Wouldn't Billy have mentioned that to me just now?"

"Nah. Fucked if we're gonna get involved in that shit. He wanted us to bring him back out to the compound for him, he's sent someone else ta do it. We just want to take out Larabee and wanted to pass it by him in case he had his own plans. He reckons Larabee's on his list anyway so told us to go ahead and do our worst."

"And where we gonna find Larabee?"

"Got his address. Figured we'd rig a bomb to his car, that way we can have some fun watching him go to work in the mornin'. Doesn't seem so original now, but we didn't know about the truck," Bruce said with dark humour.

"That's gonna create a lot of heat from the cops."

Bruce shrugged. "Jake ok'd it, it's his problem. This ain't our home. We'll be long gone before anything happens. Besides, we've been hearin' a bit since you headed up here. I think Eddie's gettin' a bit pissed at everything Billy's been gettin' up to. I don't think he's happy with losin' control of the territory like this. Plus..." he looked over his shoulder as he went on, "… we all know Billy's one crazy son of a bitch. I sure as hell wouldn't wanna live with him makin' my decisions for me."

Vin's eyes were hard. 'Crazy son of a bitch' was just the start of the man's problems.

"Eddie should be up here any day, then things'll really get interestin'."

"Yeah, Sugar mentioned it a few days back."

"He'd been plannin' to pay Billy a little surprise visit even before everything went down with you guys. I told you, he's pissed at Billy big time. I sure as hell wouldn't want Eddie pissed at me, he might have mellowed lately, but you can't be President for twenty years without being one hard son of a bitch. You've seen what

he can do. That's why you should worry about why he's bringin' you into his work like this."

If Eddie really was suspicious of Billy's motives, then Billy was in serious trouble. He sat back, thinking. He had to get to a phone, _now_.

"Mr Turner!"

He looked up to the sound of Bruce's snort of laughter and saw the fierce-looking nurse standing across the room looking right at him.

_"God no," _he muttered, standing up like a condemned man and turning to Bruce. "I might be a while, you may as well head back."

Bruce settled in to wait. "Nah. It's still rainin' hard out there. I might as well be warm in here til yer done."

Vin looked back to the windows outside as he followed the old nurse, the rain really was coming down now. She led him into a small cubicle and pulled the curtain across, directing him to hop up on the bed.

"Are you trying to make yourself sicker than you obviously are? It's cold as hell out there and your soaked through to the skin."

She shoved a towel at him and he used it to try and get some of the water out of his hair. _That's_ what she was angry at him for?

"Why would you be running around in the rain when you've got a temperature... that's right, I don't need to look to know you're running a fever, you're whiter than the sheets you're sitting on. Like we don't have enough to do around here without idiots like you making yourselves sick. Why don't men ever grow up?"

Vin quickly reached his limit and stood up before she could stop him. "Look, lady, I just came in ta get some medication, I don't need your -"

She eyed his unsteady stance and determined eyes and set her own frame for battle, cutting him off. "You think this is a drug store? Taking pills won't stop you catching pneumonia by running around in the rain you know. We treat people with legitimate problems here."

Vin's jaw was clenched tight. Enough was enough. He took a step toward her, his hands gripping the towel as if it were her throat. "I just spent _twenty_ minutes fillin' in a form out there, which you obviously haven't read. Don't they pass that stuff on or is it just so we got somethin' ta do ta fill in the time? Maybe you should give out colourin' books or somethin' useful instead."

She took an equal step towards him. "I'm going to ask you again to sit down before I call for security. If you take that tone with me again I'll have you in restraints."

Vin didn't move an inch, just cocked his head slightly and narrowed his piercing gaze. "What the hells your problem?"

She didn't hesitate. "Men like you."

"Like _me_?"

She narrowed her own eyes in return. "Your kind... You don't give a damn about anyone else, you just run over anyone that gets in your way. You have no respect for women."

Under normal circumstances Vin might have taken a moment to contemplate the motivation behind her words. The woman had obviously been burned by a man in some way, but right then he was feeling so bad he could have handled just an inch of compassion. He didn't need her bringing her personal baggage out on him. So he smiled at her in his cocky way and what he said next was something he had never dreamt he would say to a woman, but it had been a long day… and the woman was a pain in the ass.

Outside in the waiting room Bruce looked up in surprise when the manly looking war-nurse that had taken Vin came fleeing out into the waiting area almost at a gallop, amidst cheers from patients who had obviously witnessed whatever had happened to her and been the victims themselves of her bedside manner._ Were those tears on her cheeks?_

**..**

As the woman went fleeing out of the cubicle, Vin had a moments regret, contemplating the bad karma he'd just given himself, but then he heard the cheering and knew that he wasn't the only recipient of her mean ministrations. He used the towel to dry his face and neck as he moved to the curtain, peering out into the hallway to see who was around. This could be his last chance and he knew more than he had the last time he'd tried to call Larabee.

Moving down the hall he reached the glass window that looked out to the waiting room, saw that Bruce was watching the pint-sized television on the wall and moved on without hesitation. Suddenly the doctor who had smiled at him earlier rounded a corner and came up before him, this time wearing a slight frown.

"I don't know what you said to Nurse Childs, but I've never seen her so upset..." she admonished.

Vin actually blushed, suddenly feeling bad that he had lashed out at the woman, but then he realised the doctor before him was smiling and his eyes narrowed.

"…Or quite so put in her place." Sue Childs was famous throughout the entire hospital for her sour demeanour. It was considered an unlucky break to find yourself working on her shift.

Vin smiled in return, happy to be off the hook. "Well, she kind'a provoked me in there Doctor…" he tilted his head at her name badge which was on an angle, "Line."

Her smile held. "I'll bet," she told him before her face sobered. "I was going to look you over, but apparently you already have a doctor here who is familiar with your history and wants to see you. He's just finishing a shift upstairs and will be heading down shortly if you can wait a bit longer."

Vin frowned. It must be the doctor he had seen before. He must be an affiliate of the hospital. How had he known? He'd rather the doctor he was with now 'look him over' considering the last time he'd ended up in a hotel room with no idea how he'd gotten there, but it was a good excuse to find a phone. When he didn't reply for a second she put a hand to his arm.

"I read the report from your stay here, you really should make sure that everything is alright before you head off again. You've don't look well at all."

Vin studied her face a moment and realised that he had a chance to get someone on his side, if the empathy in her face was any indication.

"Thing is," Vin said, looking back toward the waiting room, "I really need ta make a phone call." He knew he wasn't at the top of his game, but if Vin Tanner knew one thing in his line of work, it was how to use his charm to get what he needed.

She shook her head, not understanding as she followed his gaze. She spotted Bruce not far from the phone on the wall. "There's a pay phone over there near your friend."

He did his best not to show his urgency, giving her half a smile. "I know, it's just... this is kind of private."

Doctor Mariah Line was old enough to have been divorced twice and jaded by the male race in general. She'd put up with enough to realise that finding a man was no longer a priority to her, for sometimes you were just better off without them, but the romantic heart in her could not resist the pull of a dark, mysterious, beat up stranger that she suspected would clean up really, _really_ well underneath all of the wet hair and bruises. Not to mention the rough texture of his voice as he spoke to her in his soft drawl as if he were sharing a dark secret just with her...

"Come with me."

Vin's eyes spoke his thanks to her and it was then that she had a clear look at his face and realised that they were blue. He made her feel as if she'd saved his life, given the intensity of the look he was giving her, and it made her all the more glad she had chosen to help him, however small she thought the favour to be.

..

Chris Larabee had his team gathered in the boardroom, long delayed by a lengthy discussion with Murphy over the news he had received from Tanner. One thing was clear from the conversation, his life was in danger. But they still needed to go over their plan for seizing the truck at the warehouse. Whether it was a set up or not, it needed to be investigated.

Buck had demanded to know what information Tanner had given and Chris had told them what he knew, which was practically nothing.

"I knew it. First Benning, now you. They're trying to take out the team," he said angrily.

JD's eyes grew wide at that and Chris was quick to stop the rumour.

"We don't know that. They might have found out Vlahov was going to speak to me, they might have discovered I was in charge at the club the other night and be blaming me for the loss of their men. We just don't know."

"Not until Tanner manages to do his job and call in."

Chris frowned at that. "Buck." There was a warning in his tone. "Something's going on, at least he's gotten this much information through, or I could have walked into something bad tonight."

Buck wasn't convinced.

"Mr Larabee, there's a call for you on line two."

They exchanged a look as Chris reached over to the phone and pressed the return intercom button.

"Thanks, Becky. Do you know who it is?"

"I'm sorry, he wouldn't say. Do you want me to take a message?"

This time Chris shared a glance with Murphy as he grabbed the phone. "No, put it through please." He picked it up as it rang. "Larabee."

"It's me."

Chris was relieved to hear the familiar voice. "Where are you?"

Vin looked out the door to the empty waiting room beyond and smiled. His nurse had found him the most vacated wing in the entire hospital. "At the hospital."

"What the hell happened now?"

"Nothin', just came in fer some antibiotics. Left mine out at the complex."

"You need to charge your phone more regularly, by the way."

Vin grinned at that. "M'bike doesn't come with an outlet. 'Side's, I don't own a phone no more."

Chris lip quirked, he could only imagine what had happened to the phone when it had gone flat. "So what do you have for me, can you come in?"

"No, but there's a lot ta tell ya so I'm gonna get on with it, never know when someone'll come back in."

"I'm in the boardroom with the team and Douglas Murphy from the DEA is here too, can I put you on speaker?"

Vin was a bit uncomfortable with speaker phones, but told him to go ahead anyway.

"It's Tanner," Chris told the room before pressing the button. "He's at the hospital getting some antibiotics." He pressed the loudspeaker button. "OK, go ahead," he called to Vin as they all stared at the phone as if they could see through the plastic speaker.

"You haven't been taking the antibiotics?" Nathan said before anyone could say a word.

Vin ignored who he knew was Nathan. "Alright I got a load ta say so let me get on with it. First off, the club's after ya Larabee. They know 'bout the team an' they reckon they've already taken Benning outta the game. I don't know much about that, but I saw the news this mornin' an' can only guess that they set him up."

Buck looked at Chris, his expression saying I told you so.

"Can you get something to prove that?" Murphy asked.

They heard Vin sigh down the line. "I don't know, it'll have ta wait 'til I get back out to the complex."

"Do you know what they're planning for Chris?" Murphy asked.

"A helluva lot more than forged photographs. It's definitely a car bomb, I'm supposed to be with them, so I'll be putting a stop to it one way or another, just wanted you on board as well."

"Thoughtful of you," Buck said with a touch of sarcasm.

Vin ignored the tone, he didn't have time for it. "There's more. Tonight's a set up. They know Vlahov spoke with ya. I don't know how they found that out, but Billy's got eyes everywhere in this damn town. They're sending some boys to pick him up."

Chris looked at Ezra sharply. "Get a unit to pick him up, but _you_ don't leave this building."

Ezra raced from the room, anxious to get to Vlahov before they did. Chris had been right, the club _had_ found out, and much faster than he ever would have predicted.

"So when -"

"Wait." Vin cut Chris off with his urgent whisper. He'd heard a noise outside the door and paused for a second.

"Vin? You there?"

Vin spoke softly into the phone. "Hold on." He got up and went slowly to the door, stepping back with relief as the nurse came through it.

"Are you alright in here?" she asked him, looking and seeing that the phone was still off the hook.

"Yeah, just need a bit more time."

"Alright, I'll get you when the doctor comes down."

He nodded and reached out for her arm as she turned. "Nurse Line?"

She stopped, caught again in the intensity of his eyes.

"Thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome." She paused again as she left, not facing him as she said, "And it's Mariah," before leaving.

He smiled to himself as the door closed and went back to the phone.

"OK, where was I…"

Buck was grinning himself. "Crossin' some ` _lines_' with the staff there sounds like."

Vin ignored him, wanting to make sure that he covered everything. "Tonight's a dummy shipment. The real

shipment's already waitin' ta be distributed from across town. I don't know where they're holding it for sure, but you might want to check out that big truck repair workshop, that real big one that sits on the south entrance inta the city."

"Eastline?" Josiah said, frowning in thought.

"I don't know what it's called, I just remember seeing a big place on the way into the city and I heard that could be the place they use. I'm not positive but it's all I got. It looks like they want ya ta think Vlahov double crossed ya."

"We'll bring him in," Chris told him.

"And the dummy shipment? What can we expect there?" Murphy prodded.

"They've rigged the roof to blow once you get inside, so stay the hell away from it."

"Sons of bitches," Buck cursed and no-one disputed the fact.

"There's meant to be enough guards down there to take out anyone who tries to get inside, so you've gotta be careful, whatever they're protectin' in there is big. Bigger than one shipment."

"What do you think is there?"

"I have no idea. It must be where they store everything, I won't know til I get there. I'm meant to speak to the guy that runs it and convince him to move the real shipment, apparently he's getting nervous with everything that's been on the news. One more thing. Levitz. He's dirty."

Murphy looked at Chris sharply. "You know that for a fact?"

Vin laughed. "Ya mean aside from personal experience?" He didn't wait for an answer, his voice again serious. "He tipped the club off about the new team."

Vin's words drew Chris forward in his chair. "If that's true why did he lay into you like that when he arrested

you? Why did he hound you at the hospital if he's an associate of the club?"

"Maybe he's trying to cover his hide, throw everyone off his trail," Josiah added.

Vin considered that. "I wouldn't say he's an associate, just an informant."

"Meaning he has his own agenda aside from the clubs," Murphy speculated.

Vin wasn't ready to tell them that he suspected Jake had set him up that night. He wasn't going to give them any reason to consider pulling him off the case.

"OK we'll start looking for that shipment. What else?"

"Eddie, the club President from Texas... he's definitely comin' inta the state. I suspected before but now I'm sure of it."

"He's not allowed to travel the country without notifying the authorities!" JD said, surprised when they all looked at him.

"I don't think he's got much of a track record for obeyin' the law, JD," Buck told him.

"There's gonna be trouble," Vin warned.

"Like what?" Chris asked.

Although they couldn't see him, Vin shook his head. "It's just talk, rumours mostly, but I think maybe the clubs headin' fer a power play `tween him and Billy. Things ain't sittin' right. The boys are startin'a get restless. There's a lotta division between the boys from Texas and here."

"The pack fights for lead position," Josiah said almost to himself as he shook his head. He raised his voice so that Vin could hear him. "I'm glad I'm not you, son, living amongst those dogs."

Vin rubbed his neck again, feeling suddenly very weary. It was something about talking with these men, these normal people, sitting around and looking at the biker world from another place so far removed, so objectively, that made him feel tired all of a sudden.

"Vin?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Chris looked at Murphy, concerned. "You ok?" He asked.

He responded to the sound of the honesty and concern in the question. When Bruce and Rizzo had come to get him off the street, it was more from a sense of duty than from any feeling of concern about him, he knew.

"Yeah, just…" he cut himself off, throwing Larabee off by getting back to business. "They're set ta kill ya tonight Larabee. They're plannin' on coming after ya in person 'til they're sure yer dead an' if they don't, the Denver boys want to take care of you."

Chris's brow puckered. That wasn't what Vin had been about to say, he was sure of it.

"And you'll be with them," Nathan prodded, hearing the tiredness creeping into Tanner's voice and wondering just how much the man had left in him.

"Yeah… it's meant ta be a kind of surprise fer me, so that I can get revenge fer the other night, an' fer Keg too."

"Who's Keg?" JD finally asked.

"He was the one with the orange hair," Vin told them, realising they wouldn't know his nickname from his

identification. For a moment he thought about the man, having not really had time to reflect on his death since it had happened.

Chris suddenly sat back in his chair, a grin on his face. "Well boys, looks like my times up… I'm going to have to give them what they want."

The confusion in the room was almost audible but down the line Vin found he knew exactly what Larabee was getting at and grinned.

"Guess it just depends on which fireball ya want ta take ya out."

"What the hell are you two going on about?" Buck asked.

But Chris smiled. "There's only one way to get these bastards off my back… I'm going to have to die tonight, one way or another."

Buck was the first to smile. "Ah, the ol' Lethal Weapon through a glass window manoeuvre..."

"I let out the information you wanted. The history is correct, just preserved your name. The information was faxed with some photographs not long ago. Now you wanna tell me why you wanted to let them in on that?"

Vin paused and Chris spoke sharply. "The truth."

"I want to get to Billy, the president here. It all lies with him. I've already made a good start and tonight he wants me to make sure no-one gets inside the warehouse. He reckons you have no chance of getting past all the guards anyway but he wants me to report back to him. Whatever they've got going on there is important enough for him to want to keep hidden. The fact that he's got me on it and not one of his own boys is a good thing, he's testing me out. If he really wants to take Eddie down I've got the skill to help him do it and if I'm right it's gonna get me closer to him real fast."

"And if you're _wrong_ it's going to get you nothing but trouble, son. Skills like that aren't something men like him will take lightly, I'm guessin' you know that though, since you kept it from them for so long. You can bet he'll want to use them, just having them in his pocket won't be enough."

"I kept it so's I'd have an ace up m'sleeve if I needed it. I wanted to use it when the time was right."

Chris knew time was important now. "Ok, let's talk about what we're going to need and who we need to get on board."


	19. Double Play

**Part 19. Double Play**

Vin spent another ten minutes talking about the operation and then it was another half hour before he'd seen the doctor, gotten his prescription filled and finally taken the pills he'd been needing all day. He already knew his side was sore to the touch but the doctor confirmed that it was infected when he cleaned and redressed the wound. He hadn't been able to keep it dry and knew he was going to run into the same problem the minute he left the hospital. He left the bandages off his wrists this time, his wounds from the handcuffs still healing, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep them dry either. The doctor also told him it looked like he was coming down with a virus and prescribed a second set of antibiotics with the advice that he stay off his feet for a few days and stay warm.

He didn't need the doctor to tell him that he needed to stay in a warm, dry room for a while, he'd been craving it for days. As much as he couldn't afford to get sick now, given everything he had going on, he was afraid that it was too late for that. On top of the headache, his throat was starting to hurt when he swallowed, but he was determined to stay in the game. He'd been shot, beat up and assaulted – and all in the last week - no way was it going to be a cold that did him in after all that. He was going to catch some sleep while he could.

By the time they arrived back at the bar Vin was more than ready to sit still and dry for a while. There were only a few bikes parked outside, the ever-flickering light of the Shaking Hand neon catching their reflective tanks. He hadn't been inside since the night Keg had died, which seemed now like a lifetime ago.

"Can't see Rizzo's bike, or Ivan's. They must still be workin' on that piece'a shit," Bruce observed as he dismounted, heading towards the wooden doors.

Vin looked over the bikes as he opened the leather pack at the side of his seat and tugged out some not particularly clean, but thankfully dry clothes, tucking his gun inside the bundle before he pulled it out. He knew that his belongings were safe on his bike, as fiercely guarded as the street was by the men watching from inside and from the door. "You wanna go give `em a hand?"

"Hell no. I'm grabbin' a beer."

They went inside, nodding as always to the bouncer at the door. The room was as dark as Vin remembered it, although the last time he'd stood in it he'd been bleeding all over the place and watching his back from every angle that he could. There were only a few people in there now though, most were out at the complex waiting for the funeral, he knew.

"Beer?" Bruce asked him as they approached the bar, neither knowing the young probate that stood behind it.

"Reckon I'll change m'clothes, might even rest up a bit."

"Just one," Bruce told the tall man, virtually a kid, behind the bar.

As he watched him pour the beer from a tap Vin asked if Chooks was in.

The kid shook his head. "Headed rode out today with the rest of the boys. Heard there was a hell of a party out there last night. You just come from there?" Clearly he wished he could be out where the action was too.

"Yeah," Bruce said, offering nothing else as his beer was placed before him. It had barely touched the bar when it was lifted to his lips, his contentment expressed with a satisfied sigh as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Somethin' I can get for you?" the bartender asked Vin.

Before he gave in to the call of alcohol he quickly diverted his attention. "A bed. Got anythin' upstairs?"

The kid turned and grabbed a key. "Number 6. But it doesn't make much difference, they're all empty – and no-ones been in to clean this week," he warned.

Vin took the key, not caring how clean the room was at that point. He turned to Bruce. "Wake me if anythin'

happens."

Bruce grunted into his beer, already having devoted himself to keeping his stool warm and Vin made his way to the stairs across the room, feeling every heavy step that took him closer to a dry bed.

..

Suzy eyed Billy as he approached her, seeing the determined glint in his eye and knowing what it meant. He had been acting strange all afternoon, even for him, and it was unsettling her. Having listened to his conversation with Jake earlier, she knew he was anxious now to hear from his vice president, who had left the grounds shortly after their talk.

She sensed that Billy was nervous, although she knew there was no-one else, except perhaps Jake, that would know that. He was excited, but he was nervous all the same. Taking out the President of the largest motorcycle club in the country was no small thing, even for a man with Billy's dark ambitions. Things were changing and she knew that the time was soon coming when she would finally make her own move, or die trying.

..

Chris rolled over in his sleep just as his watch alarm sounded that it was time to wake up. He shifted until he was staring up at the ceiling of his office in the low light that peeked through the blinds of the window. It took all of five seconds for his crowded mind to jump back to life and in rushed all of the thoughts and possibilities that had plagued him when he had laid himself down to rest just an hour before. Like wasps investigating every possibly shadow for a new home, decisions pricked at his awoken mind with relentless persistence.

With a small grunt of effort he sat up, rubbing his aching arm and putting the couch and the peace it had brought behind him, thankful that his mind had had some respite, however long it had lasted. A quick check of his watch confirmed that an hour had indeed gone by as his still beeping alarm had warned him, and he quickly stopped the high pitched noise with a press of a side button. 10.00pm. Two hours until show time. He knew Buck and the rest of his team would be back at the office at any second, ready to leave. He had not seen the benefit of getting to his own bed when all he would get was a few hours sleep anyway. The rest

of his team had gone and grabbed a late dinner, considering they hadn't finished preparing for the bust until eight.

He went out to the main office and to the small kitchen, using the sink to wash his face and grab a glass of water just as he heard the elevator signal the arrival of his men. Their conversation was muted but energetic as they approached and he was thankful that they sounded refreshed. All of them had looked worn out after so long deliberating with the DEA in the boardroom throughout the afternoon.

There was only one problem with his team and as Buck approached him he knew nothing had changed since he had gone to sleep. Ezra had taken off. Again.

"Any word?" he asked, but already knew the answer from Buck's expression.

Buck's scowl deepened. "No, and Mitri's not home either."

Chris shook his head. "I'm going to kill that lying son of a bitch. He looked me in the eye and told me he wouldn't do this again." Sort of. Damn loophole.

Buck watched the anger flow over his old friend's face, seeing the moment he shoved it aside.

"He'll have to wait, we have work to do, there's nothing we can do for him right now if he's in trouble."

They shared a solemn look before Buck spoke. "Then lets get this show on the road."

..

Vin awoke to the sound of raised, whispered voices, coming from the room next to his and immediately reassured himself with the feel of his gun, which he had tucked between the mattress and the thin fibro wall before he had let himself fall into a much needed sleep.

"Don't give a fuck about them... only one way to…"

His brow creased as he tried to make out the words, which were low and muffled, coming through to him even as his muddled mind came into focus. Slowly he got up and tucked his gun into the low waistband of his unbuttoned black jeans, his stomach tensing as he felt the cold metal at his back against his warm skin.

He'd slept with his jeans on, one hand near his gun and his back to the wall, staying on top of the bed and pulling a tattered blanket he'd found in a cupboard over himself, not able to bring himself to get inside the dirty sheets. His bare feet made no noise as he went around the bed to the wall and pressed his ear up against the chipped, lime coloured paint to listen. By the time he positioned himself, however, the men in the next room were leaving and he only caught the last few words they spoke.

"…tonight. We'll let them do the work for us. It's better this way, trust me."

"Alright, but I'm not waitin' any longer than that. If it comes down to it I'll take the bastard out myself and to hell with everyone. Fuck, it's what I wanted to do in the first place. I owe that prick."

The door closed and Vin waited a moment, hearing the footsteps recede down the hall before he moved to his door and unlocked it. Slowly he leant out, peering into the orange glow created by the wall lamps, their frosted glass shells choked by layers of accumulated dust and cigarette smoke, until he saw the shadows of two men heading for the stairs.

Leaving his room, he stepped out into the hallway, the threadbare carpet coarse beneath his feet as he followed silently, his gun still tucked in the waist of his jeans, but his hand resting within quick reach. He felt the cold of the night air on his bare chest, his skin tight in protest of leaving the warm room, but there was no time to go back for a shirt now.

Downstairs, Cheese tilted his head back to get the last dregs of his beer and as he did so, caught the eye of the two men coming down the last stairs into the bar. His eyes immediately sought Bruce's, but his friend had already seen them and put his own glass down. Cheese had come back and they'd been sitting there waiting for Rizzo and Ivan to return and for Vin to wake up, but not impatiently, for they were warm, they were well fed and most importantly, they had beer.

But now the sight of Judd Lidlow gave them pause, for he could only mean trouble – and he'd just come from

upstairs, where Vin was sleeping. Retribution for his brother's death was something none of them should have taken lightly. The man was a thinner, meaner looking replica of his brother, with a completely shaved head and a long, scraggly dark beard that hung down past his chest in an unclean mess. His eyes were pale and cold, even to those that called him friend. Decker had been the more popular of the brothers, although neither had a lot of men they could call friend, even within the club, but their loyalty to each other was fierce.

Judd was walking with Warren Close, `Waz' to his friends and a man they knew had been tight with Decker, and both stared coldly as they moved toward them, heading for the bar. When they got closer Bruce finally spoke.

"Thought you boys would be out at Billy's?"

Judd smiled and it was a mockery of twisted lips as he turned to the bar. "I'm fuckin' everywhere." He motioned to the barkeeper who had obviously been educated earlier to have a drink waiting for him on demand, because he immediately produced a shot of bourbon.

Judd then turned and eyed Bruce and there was a thin, mean smile on his lips as he shot down his drink in one hit, putting the glass back, licking his lips and giving a satisfied laugh. The cold noise stopped just as suddenly as it had started and he leaned in closer to Bruce.

"I was plannin' on catchin' up with you boys… ya bring that murderin' dog back here too, or do I have ta wait like Waz here want's me to?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he looked at Warren, then back at Judd. "Ya gotta let it go, Lidlow, yer brother's –"

"_Dead_." Suddenly all pretence left Judd and he stepped up close to Bruce, a seething rage barely held in check. "He's _dead_. And ya know how he died?"

Again Bruce looked at both of the men, knowing how close they were to violence and prepared to face it head on, but it was Cheese who answered.

"The cops shot him, just like they did Keg, and Flea… and Vin caught one too," he reminded him.

Judd rounded on Cheese, a hand reaching out and poking him right in his throat.

"You know how Keg died? You really want to know? It wasn't a bullet that took him out. I saw the report. Right _here_," he tapped Cheese's windpipe hard for emphasis. "Right here's where Turner stabbed him, right here in the fuckin' neck."

Cheese took a step back and Judd turned again to Bruce, who was now past angry. "You tell me a cop did that – jist up an' stabbed him in the neck – I don't fuckin' think so! He killed Keg and he killed my brother!"

Bruce hadn't heard about the knife, but he defended Vin all the same. "Whatever happened between Decker and Vin was between the two of them. I never knew what the fuck yer brother's problem was but it ain't got nothin' ta do with you. An' I know, sure as I'm sittin' here, that Vin didn't kill him, even if Decker _was_ out fer trouble that night."

Judd's eyes narrowed. "Not _dead_ kind of trouble." He leant in even closer, his voice a heavy threat. "You sayin' he got what he deserved?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed in return. He'd had enough. He was starting to relish the thought of swinging a fist at the asshole. "I'm sayin' you back the fuck away from me."

Judd almost growled and Warren had to pull him back.

"Come on, later Judd. He'll get what's comin' to him, but not now. Come on!" he urged, tugging his friends arm.

Judd pulled out of his grip but took a step with Warren toward the door. He pointed a finger at Bruce's chest.

"You tell yer boy I said hello."

Bruce held his look as Judd backed to the door, turning and storming away but seeming to leave his tension behind to coat the room. Something caught Bruce's eye then and he looked to the stairs, thinking he'd seen someone there but finding only an empty space.

"He's gonna be trouble fer Vin," Cheese said needlessly, but Bruce just looked thoughtfully towards the stairs.

..

Back upstairs Vin closed his door and locked it again, moving to the bed and sitting down with a sigh. Part of him had wanted to confront Deckers brother then and there, but he knew he was in no shape for a fight, at least not yet. Still, the words he had overheard earlier came back to him. _`…tonight. We'll let them do the work for us. It's better this way, trust me… I'm not waitin' longer than that… if it comes down to it, I'll take the bastard out myself and to hell with everyone.'_

They had to have been talking about him and that must be the reason they were in the city and not out waiting with the rest of the club. Chances were they knew why they were in the city, that they knew all about the bust and setting up the cops.

_`Let them do the work for us…'_

Vin tried to sort through the possibilities, but one thing he did know for certain, Judd Lidlow was aiming to kill him and it sounded like he was planning to do it that night. Just who he had planned to help him do that was what he didn't know.

..

Chris was just leaving his office with Buck and Nathan in front of him when his cell phone rang.

"Larabee."

"Captain Larabee, Captain Martin here."

"Josh," Chris responded, having met the DEA task force captain several times before.

"I've been in touch with Murphy, Chris, he wanted me to call you direct. My team is in place out at the workshop. Whoever tipped you off, I think he was right. From what we've been able to determine, the shipment's sitting right in the centre of the building in the open. They're not expecting company on this one, but the place is still guarded tight enough to keep us back. We're going to sit tight unless we hear anything different from you guys."

Chris allowed a small smile. "Great news, let me know if anything changes." He hung up and looked at Nathan and Buck. "They've found the truck at the repair facility Tanner mentioned, they're sitting tight."

Buck grinned. "Well whadaya know, told you that boy would be a great part of the team, didn't I?"

Chris's brow shot up and Nathan rolled his eyes, just as they made to leave the office, only to be stopped by the phone on Chris's desk this time.

"I'll meet up with Josiah, see you downstairs," Nathan said, leaving them in the office.

"Bit late for a call to your office," Buck commented as Chris picked up his phone.

"Larabee."

"Captain Larabee, I'd say it's a pleasure but I'd be lyin'."

Chris quickly dismissed the Texan drawl as being Vin's and responded to the threatening tone by glancing at Buck, who saw the seriousness of his expression and went out to his desk to pick up the call and listen in.

Chris paused a moment and spoke as Buck picked up. "Who is this?"

"And I'd say a friend but again, I'd be lyin'."

The man was clearly enjoying himself.

"What do you want?"

"Somethin' we both want. At least one biker dead tonight."

Chris shook his head. "I don't want anyone dead."

There was a laugh on the other end of the line, cold and thin. "It's a bit late fer that, don't ya think? Tell that ta the ones ya killed in cold blood the other night."

Chris heard the venom behind the laughter. "Again, what do you want?"

"Don't fuckin' try an' be the man with me, Larabee, I'm doin' ya a favour here. After this, you'll owe me yer life."

Chris got a cold feeling in his stomach. "In that case, I don't want any favours."

Another laugh, then suddenly the voice went deadly cold, all trace of laughter gone as the tone fell. "Don't even try an' fuck with me, Larabee. I know where the hell ya live, I can take ya any time I want, ya got that?"

Chris played along. "Alright, I'm listening…"

"You better put someone on your car, someone's going to mess with it."

Chris began to pace beside his desk. "Who is this?"

The man ignored him, taunting him now. "Don't ya wanna know why there's a bomb with yer name on it? Don't ya wanna know who ya pissed off so bad that he wants ya dead?"

Chris shook his head, but obliged the madman. "Who?"

"Ya should've killed everyone that night, Larabee. That was sloppy, lettin' one of us go like that. Now ya got Vin Turner on yer tail, an' unless ya take him out first, he's gonna take ya down."

Chris was perplexed. "Why are you telling me this?" Obviously the man was a biker, judging by the `lettin' one of us go.' Why would he turn in one of his own men? What the hell was this guy's agenda?

"You watch your car, he'll come to you."

The call ended suddenly and for a long moment Chris could only stare at his phone. Who in the _hell_ was that? He put the phone down and turned as Buck came back, thinking out loud. "Obviously Tanner's got enemies within the club. Someone's decided to turn on him and play with the other side just to see him get taken down." He paced the floor before turning back to Buck. "He's in trouble. They might not know he's one of us, but one person at least wants him taken out."

Buck thought about it, but his concern was for Chris, not a man he hardly knew, even if he was a member of their team. "I'll get the call traced, but it'll probably come back same as Tanners, phone booth in the middle of nowhere."

..

Vin gave up trying to get back to sleep after Judd and his friend had left and rather than wait for another wake up visit from Wallace, or something equally as friendly, he decided to go downstairs and see if the boys were all gathered together.

Pulling a t-shirt over his head slowly he sat on the edge of the decrepit, squeaking bed and mustered the effort to tug on his boots, harshly exhaling a grunt of pain that the position caused him as he leant forward. He wasn't feeling on top of the world, but he wasn't as bad as he'd felt when he'd laid down a few hours before either. The sore throat that had been threatening seemed to have abided at least.

He tied off his boots and with a last breath got up and made sure his gun was secure, pulling his grey t-shirt over it and pulling on his jacket once more. For a moment he simply looked at the closed door, preparing himself for the night ahead as he ran a hand through his tangled, but thankfully dry hair, pushing it back from his face with little patience. He would have to be as alert as he had ever been, not only for Larabee and his new team, but also for himself. Judd's promise of revenge was as real as they came.

The hallway was empty as he made his way back out of the room, not sorry to leave it behind as he found the stairs again in the dim light and walked down to the bar, his knee still not healing as fast as he would have liked. It needed some physio, or at least for him to make an effort to exercise and strengthen the strained and healing muscles that had been damaged, but it would have to wait until this was over, _when_ it was over… but how long would that be he wondered? A day? A month? How long would it take to get to Billy now that he was so close? And would he have the patience that he needed now after so long?

"Hey Cinderella, nice of ya ta join us!" Bruce said, obviously more than a few beers down for the night.

Vin crossed the room, eyeing the dark corners until he was sure there was nothing lurking that might take him unawares. He took a stool next to both Bruce and Cheese, scanning the room again in the mirror before him and wondering where the bartender was. They seemed to have the entire place to themselves.

"They still not back?"

Cheese laughed. "They're on their way. Rizzo's givin' Ivan a lift… Or maybe it's the other way round." He laughed again and Vin knew there was a story behind it, merely raising a brow in question.

"Ivan called a while back, he can't get his bike goin', so Rizzo was gonna give him a lift, but he got so bored waitin' fer Ivan that he smoked the whole bag'a weed the bar guy gave him this mornin'." He laughed again. "Ivan said he ain't makin' much sense and he didn't wanna ride with him, but we couldn't be fucked goin' back out fer `em, so he's pissed at us now too."

Bruce swore then. "What the fuck does he expect, ridin' that piece'a shit? He should just sell it and be done with it. I'm sick'a waitin' while he breaks down every five fuckin' feet."

"He gets so pissed off when he works on it, Rizzo must be drivin' him nuts by now." Cheese was still laughing at the picture of the two of them riding back. Rizzo really had sounded a bit crazed.

"It's that hydro shit he smokes, gives me a headache," Bruce said, a pot smoker from way back and preferring his home-grown blends to the hydroponic concoctions flooding the streets today.

"That shit the guy gave him didn't look right, neither," Cheese said, sobering up for a moment as he thought about the plastic packet Rizzo had shown him. "Had a kind'a purple, powdery fuzz on it, all head an' hairy as all fuck."

Vin's brow arched up at that. Hairy, powdery, purple weed didn't sound right to him either, but he was beyond the conversation, eyeing off the beer tap once more when Bruce again spoke to him.

"Ya had a visitor… said ta tell ya hello."

Vin had the uncomfortable impression that Bruce was trying to gauge his reaction.

"Yeah?" was all he said.

"Judd Lidlow, Decker's brother."

He looked at Bruce then, but kept his face carefully neutral. "What'd he want?"

"Yer head, on a plate," was the blunt reply.

There was no humour in his voice and Vin flicked a glance at Cheese in the mirror, seeing that he looked

uncomfortable. They had obviously had words about the situation. He should have stuck around to hear what they'd said after Judd had left.

"I thought he might," he said carefully, wanting to play it down as if he didn't care.

"We told him the cops were the ones ta blame, but he said the knife in Keg's throat begged ta differ." He paused for effect. "He's sayin' it was you."

Vin looked back at the beer tap, thinking over his next words even as he continued to feel Bruce's eyes scrutinising him.

"We told him he was nuts," Cheese cut in. "We all know Decker was out ta get ya that night." He lowered

his voice, looking around the room, even though there was no-one there but them. Even the bartender had

disappeared and they'd had to get their own drinks for the last hour. "If ya did kill that prick, I can understand it." He was giving Vin his support.

Vin looked away from the trust in Cheese's eyes. It was easy for people to see what he did in black and white, but sometimes the line that he had to cross became a blur. In moments like these, he just felt low. He tried to remind himself that the look in Cheese's eyes right then, the unquestioning loyalty he was giving him, meant that he was doing his job well… but it wasn't working. One thing he had in his favour, he really hadn't killed Decker, that was one thing he could be honest about, and so he looked back at them, his eyes showing sincerity.

"I know I had a reason ta kill that bastard, two reason's actually, but it wasn't me. I don't know what the cops wrote it up as, but it wasn't me `threw that knife an I wasn't armed anyways." Vin was silent a long moment before his voice came again, softer, but so much more deadlier. "An' any bastard says I killed Keg is gonna get their own knife to the throat."

Bruce took a gulp of his beer and took a final look at Vin's face before reaching out and pouring himself another glass. He knew there was no way Vin would do anything to harm Keg, the two had known each other forever, since way before he'd come to the club. He sat back and Vin saw that he looked satisfied with his words as he shook his head, "Can't believe the cops in this town. They really stuck him like that? Right in the throat?"

Vin appeared to concentrate, in reality pushing the image of Nathan out of his mind. These weren't normal cops, he wanted to tell them. "'Came from over m'shoulder, behind me… can't say I know which of `em threw it, there was a whole lot goin' down and I was tryin'a get m'ass clear of the gunfire. Once I saw everyone was down I knew they were all dead, there weren't much to do but get the hell outta there. `Sides," he added, "I's bleedin' all over the place." Again he eyed the beer, wanting to change the subject, fast. "God I need a beer…"

Bruce grinned at that, "Now that I can help ya with!" he reached out over the bar counter, grabbed a glass and poured a beer. "Cheers," he said, putting it in front of Vin, who held it in his hands longingly.

"What's stoppin' you?" Cheese asked him, seeing his hesitation, and Vin was happy he'd diverted the conversation for the time being.

"All those pills the doc gave me, told me not to drink with `em. I already feel like shit as it is."

"Well then ya can't feel no worse!" Cheese reasoned with a grin.

Just then the doors creaked open and a familiar voice reached them.

"Ye fuckin' tool, I told ye, an' I _told_ ye not tae smoke all that shite! Ye nearly fuckin' kilt us both!"

They each turned on their stools to face the door and watched as Ivan came in, drenched to the bone and dragging a sick looking Rizzo along behind him, who despite the green tinge to his skin was still grinning a weak grin.

"Bit a' trouble there, Ivan?" Bruce asked, lighting a cigarette and shaking his head with a half grin as he saw Rizzo pause in mid step and stare at them as if he didn't know them.

Ivan scowled and looked again at Rizzo, who found that suddenly amusing and laughed a heartfelt, yet completely silent laugh that had him bending over and clutching his stomach. Ivan's scowl deepened but then he realised the rest of them were laughing and as suddenly as he'd been about to curse, a chuckle escaped him. It had been a long, nightmare of a day for him, but at least he was in a dry place now and could get warm - and he'd made it back alive which was a bonus. He'd had to leave his bike at the shop and ride Rizzo's back, but the fool had nearly toppled from the seat behind him many times, unable to grasp the concept of hanging on.

He shook his head at him, but actually did sympathise with his plight. It wasn't the first time one of them had taken something that had messed them up proper. "Fuckin' idiot," he said, again shaking his head, "smokin' all that shite." He looked at the others. "Did ye no see it? Purple an' _hairy?_" he shook his head again at Rizzo. "Ah'm goin' fer a hot shower, then ah'll be back fer a pint or three." He started to turn, eyed the untouched beer in Vin's hands and suddenly reached out for it, grabbed it and sculled it before Vin could blink, patting his stomach. "Ahh… nowah'm goin' upstairs."

They watched him walk off and Vin looked down into his empty glass. _That took care of that._

Just then Bruce had a brainstorm as he stared at the unresponsive Rizzo, who was now staring into space again.

"I think I know how to bring Rizzo `round." He went to find the pack he'd brought in off his bike, knowing Wallace would be snuggled somewhere inside. He chuckled to himself just at the thought of putting it in front of Rizzo in the state he was in. Wallace would teach him a lesson alright...

Vin watched Bruce wander off to find his pet spider then looked over at the unsuspecting Rizzo, who had headed for a seat in the corner to sit by himself. Whatever he'd smoked, purple and furry or otherwise, it was beyond a normal high he was having, it was obviously laced with something else because he looked like he was tripping.

Cheese looked a little concerned. "You know, Bruce, he doesn't look too good. He kind of reminds me of Lui that night we found him in his room..."

"He'll be fine, besides that wasn't weed that did that to Lui."

"It doesn't look like just weed that's doing this to Rizzo either," he argued. He turned to Vin. "You hear about Lui?"

Vin shook his head.

"When we found him he'd made a circle around himself with all his girlfriends shoes for protection, all the heels pointed out. He reckoned that they turned on him and were trying to kill him cos they were possessed. He'd been there for a whole day fucked up and too scared too move."

Vin looked again at Bruce now approaching Rizzo with Wallace in his hands, thinking for a moment he should try and stop him, but then his eyes strayed to a clock up on the wall. Eleven o'clock. Nearly time to go and here he was sitting with these three. Two of them were half pissed and one was senseless in the corner, communicating now to what could only be a plastic plant. God help him… he was looking forward to the day that he could be a part of an organised bust from the other side again.

..

Billy heard his phone ring and quickly pushed Suzy off his lap into an ungracious heap on the couch. She protested with a slight sound but got up and straightened her clothes without comment as she watched him head over to his desk to take the call.

"Yeah?"

"It's Jake."

"Well?"

"He didn't come through."

"What the hell do you mean he didn't come through?!" Jake gripped the phone so tight his hand hurt, the rings on his right hand digging into his skin.

"I mean he didn't come through the border that way. He either didn't come at all or he lied about the route he was takin'."

"Maybe you just missed him."

"No, no chance. I think… maybe somethin's up…"

Billy felt a panic rise in his lungs. No way could Eddie have known what he'd planned. _No way..._ "Wait a second," he told Jake, looking up at Suzy with a scowl. "Get out."

Suzy held his look for a second, wishing he could feel every inch of her loathing for him, wanting to go and grab the letter opener she could see on his desk and stab him with it, stick it into his eye and watch as he struggled to pull it out. Maybe she'd stick it in both eyes… but all of these thoughts she took with her as she tidied her skirt, zipped it up and headed out the door without so much as a glance back. His time was coming, besides, that hadn't sounded like good news. _Poor Billy._ That brought a slight smile to her lips as she walked away, meeting Sugar's eyes as he passed her out in the entranceway.

Most people were unnerved by the giant man and given his role within the club, she wasn't surprised, but he had never bothered her. In fact, she had almost convinced herself that sometimes there was a kindness in his eyes when he looked at her. Then again, not having much experience with that particular human quality, she couldn't really be sure.

Sugar continued past her, giving her a small nod but not looking back as he reached Billy's door and knocked. She had no idea how his face hardened when she could no longer see his expression, how one thought always plagued him whenever he looked at her. _Good God how she looked like her mother…_

_"Not now!"_ came the shout from inside.

Sugar scowled and looked at his watch. 11.30pm. He'd just learned that Billy had sent Vin out to take care of the ATF Captain and was pissed off as hell about it. What Billy did in his territory was his business, but involving his boys was another matter entirely. And what the hell had Vin been thinking, riding out again in the condition he was in, giving him no word? He felt like shooting the kid himself.

"I need to speak with you," he called to the closed door.

"Damn you I told you, not _now_!"

Sugar's eyes narrowed at the door. For a moment he considered kicking it in. Despite the thick wood it was made from, he was fairly certain he could do it. There was something going on in there that gave him a bad feeling. More and more Billy seemed to be forgetting the union of the brotherhood, running his chapter as if it were his own private club. That was why Eddie was coming out for the funeral, why he felt it necessary to check up on what Billy was doing up here with his men. Now he was glad that Eddie had made that decision, for there was definitely something going on that they needed to know about.

He'd just had a call from his old friend and President and what he'd had to say had disturbed him enough to bring him to Billy's door. Eddie had changed course just shy of the border. The police scanner they used had picked up on talk of bikers waiting near the entry they were going to take into the state and they had mentioned the Joker's patch being sighted. Nobody was supposed to be out that way, Billy had not given any word that he was sending a crew to meet him and his men. Everyone knew that due to his criminal records, he was not allowed to travel freely out of Texas, so why would Billy draw attention to him by sending out men? _Unless he was up to no good._

Sugar turned from the door, cursing Billy's volatile moods as his eyes found Suzy, surprised to see that she was still there, watching him whilst his expression had been unguarded.

"Somethin' I can help you with?" she asked him and to his dismay he realised there was a calculating glint in her eye.

"Darlin', what you got's too good fer the like's a me."

Suzy cocked her head at that, her sly smile falling from her lips as she realised he had meant what he'd said. Then suddenly angry at the confusion he caused her, she shrugged. "Whatever you say…" she started to walk off, turning her head and looking at him slyly "… but I don't think you'll be gettin Billy to go anywhere `til he finishes that mighty important call…" she paused, one brow arched in a perfect gesture, before winking slowly and walking away.

Sugar felt his stomach clench. Stupid girl, playing games like that could get her killed. She'd never done it before, why the hell was she starting now? He looked again at the closed door, hearing Billy's low voice coming from within, obviously deep in conversation before he turned back to watch Suzy's graceful figure glide away. _What did she know about that call?_

..

"You realise this could all go to hell. Do you even consider the chance, however remote you might think it to be, that I was right and Tanner is setting us up?"

Chris frowned at the sound of Buck's voice beside him. It was the second time Buck had voiced the thought since they had arrived and taken their positions. Their job tonight was not to seize the truck, that was going to be up to the explosives team who were right then taking their positions around the empty bay area, ready to move once the dummy shipment arrived. They needed it to look like they hadn't been tipped off.

Chris frowned at that thought. It was a complex situation, but all he could do now was focus on the job ahead, watch for the bikers and protect the explosives team, until the area was secure. And of course, if Vin _did_ show and there was a confrontation, they needed to make it look authentic. They wanted to give Martin's team time to seize the real shipment without giving away the game.

They had a lot to deal with right then, so Buck insisting on being the voice of doom was starting to grate on Chris's nerves.

"I just think somethings not right, I can feel it, Chris."

Chris tried to make light of the situation. "That your animal instinct talkin' again?"

"Animal instinct, gut instinct, all a part of what makes me so damn special."

"Special all right," they heard JD say in their earpieces, obviously wanting a part of the banter to relieve his

nervousness.

Chris and Buck exchanged a glance, the kid had been nervous before they'd left, but had managed to control his excitement. He was finally going to see some action, whatever part he was to play in it. It was what he had wanted since the first day the government had recruited him from the top of his class.

"Don't start kid, the night's just beginnin', ya got a long way to keep up with me."

"Yeah, JD, the old guy's vitamin's are probably kickin' in about now, you'll never go the distance up against him."

Buck scowled at Chris, even though it was Nathan who had spoken. "Ouch Nathan, and you're supposed to be the healer of the bunch…"

Nathan grinned at Josiah, only meters from where he was positioned behind a wide stretch of hedged fencing, further blocked from the concrete wall of the warehouse and truck bay that sat before them by stacked, empty wooden pallets. "I am Buck, but I like to help the underdog whenever I can."

"Hey, I ain't the underdog!" JD could see Nathan's back from where he was, perched on the roof of a nearby long-haul truck as he was, but he could not see Chris or Buck.

They were positioned at the rear of the Empire Warehouse, the massive plot of land covered several blocks and the bay where they had been told they would find the truck was right toward the back in an apparently vacated section. The land was bordered by a high barbed wire fence that backed onto acres of bush land, dense and thick in its cover of foliage and trees. That was how they had entered, by cutting through the fence from the adjacent land. Josiah had procured the plans of the area and with Murphy's first team, they had mapped out their course of infiltration closely.

In all, there were three teams waiting with them, all from the DEA and under Murphy's direct command. They had enough men to take out a small army, should they need it and according to Vin, they probably would. Murphy had instructed his men that there was an undercover agent with the bikers, should they see them. It was a risk telling the men about Vin, but a necessary one. These were men that he trusted, that he knew personally, so he was confident that the information would go no further.

Ezra had checked in and as Chris had figured, he had gone to try and get to Vlahov before the bikers could. He hadn't found him though and Chris knew he felt responsible for the man, criminal though he was. Whilst he couldn't convince Ezra to go home he had insisted that the still injured agent stay back and wait for news on Vlahov. The man had disappeared and they had no idea where he was. Concern for his safety now that the club knew he had turned on them was paramount and Chris didn't want to take any chances with Ezra, who had been frustrated at the order, but knew finding Vlahov was a priority to the case.

"OK, quiet boys," Chris said, getting a signal from Murphy's first team leader that there was activity up ahead.

"Truck coming in through the west gate," they heard Murphy communicate and settled themselves in as their

adrenaline began to pump.


	20. War Games

A/N: Believe it or not I'm trying to condense this story down! But this chapter didn't want to be broken up, so it's a bit long.

**20. War Games**

After a half hour touring the complex, Vin was amazed at the sheer scale of deception that the place presented. They'd entered from a building on the other side of the road, a long way down the street, coming in through a side gate and heading down to an underground car park. From there they had parked and met up with Bale, who had his own band of men watching his back. They were not bikers, but associates, and a very important part of the drug trafficking operation. The warehouse had been used for years to store and distribute their shipments throughout the country.

John Bale was the man Vin had come to see and it did not take long to sum him up. He was calculating and blunt, sparing no time wasting either words or emotion. No doubt he was a shrewd business man and that was why he was doing so well handling all of the club's shipments. He was courteous enough until his eyes fell on Rizzo and he stopped his introductions.

"Is he going to be alright?" he asked them, clearly sceptical.

As if they had forgotten their friend's state, they turned in unison to peer at the lightly sweating, nervous looking Rizzo. Ivan threw an arm over his friend's shoulders and gave him a squeeze for show. "Dinnae mind him, he's jist a bit overwhelmed."

Raising an eyebrow, but apparently not going to push the matter any further, Bale had moved on, leading them down to a basement. Their friend was obviously drug-fucked, but if they weren't concerned, he wasn't going to be. None of them knew that trapped inside Rizzo's mind was the image of Wallace.

Bruce had indeed put the creature on his hand back in the bar and it had been the first thing that Rizzo had focused on properly since he'd smoked the trippy stuff that the barkeeper had given him, every last bit of it. He hadn't spoken a word since and was afraid that if he did open his mouth he might just start screaming and not be able to stop. He would have sworn on anything that Wallace's head had actually turned and looked right at him, all of his freakishly hellish eyes promising him death.

Through the basement had been a long panel of concrete, which at first sight had blended seamlessly into the wall. Bale had used a remote control to activate it and it had slid back heavily to reveal yet another long passage. It was a state of the art complex that would have taken a huge amount of money to build and maintain. This went beyond anything Vin had even considered the club capable of, even after all the time he had spent with them. From there they had gone down the passage until they'd come to a set of stairs that took them even further below ground and Bale had then informed them that they were crossing beneath the road to the main building. It was a long walk but the passage was well lit. Vin had pulled his jacket tighter as they'd walked, finding the air even colder than outside due to the depth of the tunnel and the limestone and concrete retaining walls that supported it.

After they'd been walking for some time they came out into another large area where passages began to veer off into large storage spaces. Apparently not concerned in the slightest about leaking information to them, for it was after all their operation, Bale began to point out the individual areas that opened out, telling them what was stored in each at that time. Most of the containers and crates that they saw stacked in long rows that reached to the ceiling were filled with various goods he was holding for them, and he spoke as if they knew about the arrangement that he had in place with Billy.

At one point he drew their attention to a large crate, telling them that the tobacco was of the finest quality he had yet to import. Further along the passage he pointed to a massive holding room and told them that the new shipment of guns had arrived in time, just like Billy had asked. His voice reflected great reverence for Billy. It was obvious that his business was very important to him.

Bruce had turned to them after seeing the stack of weapons and whispered quietly, "Nothin' like storin' up fer a rainy day…"

"It's like a giant bunker down here," Cheese whispered back, amazed how big the place was and how much was being stored.

Ivan laughed at that, picturing spending Armageddon down there. "Aye, fuck the tins ay soup, there's enough drugs an' shit down here tae forget about earth bein' blown tae bits. Even the fuckin' cockroaches'd git high."

Apparently Rizzo found that extremely funny, because he started laughing again as he tried to keep one foot in front of the other, dragged along quickly by Ivan who whispered a single word in his ear to keep him in line: "_Wallace_." Rizzo seemed to withdraw in on himself once again and Ivan shook his head.

Vin was taking the entire place in with a sense of awe. As they walked through each passageway, he took notes in his mind of what Bale was telling them. Every bit of information was collected and stored as they moved on. He'd never seen anything like it and something told him that Eddie was not in on any of this. This man made warren that Billy was filling full of his own private shipments was just that. Private. His major concern was why Billy had let them down here. After guarding this secret for what must have been a long time in setting it up, why let them in on it now? He knew that everything Billy did was most likely thought through with great precision, so why was he showing them his operation? He began to realise then that something was terribly wrong. The answer was, Billy _wouldn't_ just show another chapter this operation of his. Not if he intended them to leave it.

"OK, we take these stairs up to the next level, then we can go over the positions they have taken up on the ground outside the bay, waiting for the truck."

"How's the driver going to get out of the truck?" Cheese asked.

"He's been through this before when he's had to get away quickly. He'll climb through to his rear compartment and get out through the floor, into the hatch he'll park right over. He'll be down here out of harm's way before they even get to the truck and open the back doors," Bale told them with confidence.

Just then they walked through another exit and came out into a massive space that seemed to be the centre of the entire complex and all conversation ceased. Vin tried to hide his shock at the sight before them, but it was hard. After not coming across so much as a rat the entire time they had been making their way through the tunnels, they had arrived to a beehive of activity, where there were people moving about on foot, and forklifts carrying pallets to and fro as they each went about their routines as if long practised in their jobs. Pallets lined walls and various containers were stacked to the ceiling. On the far side of the room was a massive shipping container, enclosed completely within a thick, solid barrier of some sort of clear glass. The roof of the metal box was linked to a massive ventilation shaft and the whole area was surrounded by men all armed and dressed in security uniforms. It didn't take Vin long to realise there had to be a chemical lab inside.

"Huh," he said, shaking his head. "Wonder what's cookin'?"

Bale smiled in return. "I would take you for a full tour, but there isn't enough time. Perhaps next time."

Perhaps he was becoming paranoid, but Vin had the distinct impression that Bale didn't think that there would be a next time.

They were led towards a group of waiting men and Vin tried to determine what drug they were manufacturing but the containers were all unmarked and he could not see into the makeshift lab itself.

"Ain't it a little dangerous, bein' down here with all that?" he asked, prodding subtly for information.

"Not at all. Even if the whole thing blew, which it wouldn't, that barrier is completely shock proof. The beauty of this operation is that we can shift it out whenever we like, but the facility is always here and ready for production." He turned to them all then and opened his arms to encompass the space around them. "This entire facility is built based on state of the art technology. Billy wanted nothing less."

_Yeah, but where had the money come from? _Vin wondered.

"Now we come to the fun part." Bale indicated the waiting men. "My men will lead you above ground to watch the truck come in. You can either watch from the ground level and come up behind the agents they have posted on the perimeter, or you can head up to the control tower with it's three hundred and sixty degree views. I have enough men here to take them all out."

Vin's heart was racing now. Not in his wildest dreams had he foreseen anything of this scale. There hadn't been so much as a murmur about such a place existing. He'd warned Larabee of the set up but had never imagined anything this well organised. Now here he was, waiting for his team to walk into a well-armed ambush. He eyed the automatic weapons each man held.

"Thought the truck was meant ta take care of `em."

Bale smiled. "Our instructions from Billy himself were to leave no man standing. We can't be sure to catch them all in the blast. From what our security monitors are telling us, they have more than one team and are locked in tight around the area. They won't all move in once the explosives are detonated, we'll have to draw them out by coming up behind them."

"Seem's like a lotta noise is gonna be made out here, how ya plannin' on cleanin' up the mess?" Vin tried to keep his voice curious, not concerned.

At this Bale only smiled again. "When the smoke clears and they don't find anything in that truck that could justify their aggressive action I'll be expecting a full apology. I doubt they'll wish to get it wrong twice so I don't expect them to try entering the facility again any time in the near future."

Vin almost shook his head. Was this whole scam a massive effort to deter the DEA from investigating the rest of the facility?

"I wanted a word with you alone before everything gets under way."

To his surprise Bale smiled at him. "Billy wanted you to convince me to move the shipment tonight."

Vin tiltled his head in question. Bale didn't expect him to answer.

"Well you can tell your president that you were successful, the truck is already being moved, he's gotten his wish on this one. So, everyone ready?"

_Just like that?_ He'd been led to believe that getting Bale to carry out Billy's order was going to be a hard sell. What was going on here? This didn't require a personal visit. He had to stall, things were moving too fast. Bale was practically pushing them all out the door.

"What's the point in takin' 'em all out? Reckon the truck explodin'll be enough ta put 'em off comin' back."

Bale's smile dropped as he looked at Vin. "I only know my orders from Billy. Perhaps you would like me to call him and confer?" He looked at his watch, "of course, that would probably take a few minutes and as the truck's about to pull in any second, I doubt I'd be able to reach him in time."

Cheese looked at Vin, trying to read his expression but unable to, not that that was unusual. He rarely knew what he was thinking. As for himself, he was thinking that this was all more than he'd bargained for, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that they had enough men with them to take down an army. Besides, he wasn't planning on getting anywhere near the gunfire.

"We're in," he said, seeing Ivan and Bruce both nod and look at Vin. "Maybe this is a good time to tell him about Larabee..."

"I told him," Bruce said, looking guilty. "Stop thinking so damn much Vin, this'll be fun."

"_You told him?!_" Cheese said, upset that Bruce had spoiled the surprise after he had managed not to.

"Eh.. me too..."

They both whirled on Ivan.

"I don't believe it! Am I the only one who said nuthin'?!" Cheese said.

"No. Rizzo didn't," Bruce said, glancing at the silent man who was staring down at his shoes. "Unless...?" he looked at Vin, who shook his head.

"Not a word."

Ivan chuckled. "So ye got it outtae Bruce too eh? Ye should be a detective."

Vin's mouth opened but at that second Bale clapped his hands together as a sign of closure before the long-haired biker could ask him any more annoying questions. He'd say the man was too damn suspicious for his own good, but knowing what he knew about what was about to happen to his four friends, he had every right to be. Billy's orders had been very clear, this one was the only one to make it out alive. "Very good. Then I'll see you all when you get back across the road." He indicated a tall, well built man with black hair. "Shole here is in charge of security, he'll look after you."

With that, Bale and his personal entourage left, leaving them with the impressive force of armed men.

"So much for the '_we_' part," Bruce muttered, watching Shole leave.

"I'm takin' the tower," Cheese said before Shole could speak. "Who's headin' up there?"

Shole turned to his men, sorting them into divisions and giving them orders as to where to take their positions as per the plans they had made earlier. He then turned to Cheese. "This team is heading up to the tower, you can go with them."

"I'll come with ye," Ivan said, with a wink at Bruce and Vin before following the men out to another passage. "Ah'll be seein' you fella's later."

"Take Rizzo," Bruce said hopefully, but Ivan only grinned and walked away. "_Fuck_..." He looked at Rizzo, speaking to Vin. "We can't take him out there, he'll get himself killed, us too probably."

"_I_ don't wanna go out there," Vin said honestly. "I think we're all gonna get ourselves killed. Why don't you take the tower as well?"

"Fuck that, I want to see it from the ground."

Resigned that he wasn't going to be able to move alone, Vin looked around and spoke to Shole. "Is there

somewhere we can stash him 'til we get back?"

Shole called to a uniformed security agent standing close by. "Dale, take their friend to a room upstairs to wait."

"Go with this guy, Rizzo, and don't touch anythin' 'til we come back!" Bruce ordered, just as someone would a child, which for all intents and purposes, Rizzo pretty much was right then.

Rizzo didn't say anything, just followed the security guard's heels closely.

"So where do you guys want to watch from?" Shole asked them.

Thinking of his pre-arranged plan with Larabee and his team, Vin prepared himself. "I wanna come up behind them, get right up close to the action." He pointed in the direction of the lookout Cheese and Ivan had headed toward. "I won't be able to hit anythin' from up there."

The team had agreed to meet him on the perimeter and he had to try and get to them first. He was anxious now to try and warn them of the fire power they were facing before the truck arrived. He could only hope that they had brought enough backup to get them through.

Bruce smiled and clapped Vin on the back. "That's more like it. Let's do this!"

Damn. He tried one last time. "Ya sure ya don't wanna watch from up there?" He pointed to the path Cheese and Ivan had taken.

Bruce's grin spread and Vin watched as he pulled out a gun from beneath his shirt. "An' miss all the fun?"

Vin's face was serious as he and Bruce followed Shole and a division of his men out through to the last passageway. Larabee had told him he'd be on the perimeter of the bay, away from the truck if it detonated. They'd spoken about preparing for unforeseen hazards, but he hadn't anticipated anything like what was happening now. These men were armed to the teeth and they appeared disciplined and well trained. Not only that but they were ordered to take out everyone they saw – and the men outside had no idea what they were walking into.

They followed the four men led by the commander himself, Shole, to the end of the last passage and saw

the ladder that would take them up to the ground level. From the second they had started walking he had begun to formulate a plan, taking in the four men ahead of them and sizing them up. He had to act fast, if those men got into position behind Larabee and the rest of the team they wouldn't stand a chance. He decided then and there if he had to blow his cover to save them, he would.

Most might consider that the obvious thing to do, however there was so much more behind Vin's dilemma. If he gave himself up now there was the obvious threat to his life that would follow, but there was also the lost chance of getting to his father. Purely selfish reasons perhaps, but for a man whose sole purpose of revenge had not wavered since he could remember, it was a weighted choice. Still, if he did give up the game now, all would not be lost. He would be able to shut down the facility and confiscate all of the illegal supplies that were right then being stored underneath the ground. That would have a major impact on their trade, but the downside to that would be that they would know exactly who had tipped off the police. He'd be a dead man for sure.

It wasn't until he watched Shole reach the top of the ladder and open the hatch that his warring thoughts led him to a clear decision. Whatever happened out there, he would not let innocent men die, not if he could stop it.

A short laugh beside him had him looking at Bruce.

"What?"

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, still grinning. "Ya look so damn serious, like yer ready fer a war."

Vin's face _was_ serious. "This _is_ a war," he said softly. It wasn't a game, but he knew Bruce wasn't seeing it that way as he clapped him on the arm.

"Relax. Have fun with it, how many times in a man's life does he get to play with live toys against an enemy on a battle field?"

_Too many,_ Vin thought sadly, but he just shook his head at the single track of Bruce's mind. He contemplated taking off his jacket for easier movement, but knew the white of his arms would make him a brighter target in the darkness.

"Come on," came a voice urging them on from above.

They looked at each other.

"After you," Vin beckoned.

Bruce started up the ladder with Vin close on his heels, reassuring himself by feeling for the knife in his boot. He knew what he had to do and he knew that his gun wasn't the way to do it if it came down to a need for stealth.

..

JD was getting edgy. Perched on the roof of the parked truck, he could now hear the sound of a moving truck

rumbling closer in the night and shifted his position again, his elbows uncomfortable as they leant on the hard metal beneath him. He could make out the positions of five other men, Josiah and Nathan included, all below him on the ground.

Above him to his left, he knew there were two other DEA agents, concealed halfway up a sloping corrugated roof that leaned up towards a control booth that overlooked the area. He glanced at them again to reassure himself that they were still there and it was then that he noticed movement from above them, coming from within the glass booth itself. Nobody was meant to be positioned inside… but he could be wrong. What if they were with one of the other teams, wouldn't he look stupid if he alerted everyone? Considering the possibilities he deliberated for precious seconds, watching for something more concrete but seeing nothing more than the shadows of men standing by the window. What if they weren't part of the operation and he said nothing? Not only that, he was a sitting duck if they were the bad guys and they spotted him. It was that thought that finally motivated him to speak out.

"There's movement in the control booth," he voiced in a firm whisper, determined now to alert the others.

They all heard the voice and tried to look at the tower from each of their positions.

Chris could not see the glass panel from where he was positioned, crouched near Buck on the fence line facing the empty bay. He too, could hear the truck now approaching slowly in a low gear.

"I can't see from here - Josiah?" He knew Josiah was closest to JD.

Josiah peered out from his concealed position, looking up at the tower and quickly moving back. "He's right, there's definitely someone inside."

"How many?"

JD looked up for a rather long moment before flattening himself once again against the roof.

"At least three," Josiah said, having taken another look.

"Four," JD put in, having taken longer in his perusal than Josiah.

"JD keep your head down," Chris ordered before he flicked his radio control to address all of the teams. "Movement in the control booth, four men sighted."

Murphy looked behind him up to the glass panel of the booth and saw several dark shapes as the truck's engine loomed ever closer. From that position the men in the booth could pick them off at will.

"ATF hold position; Niles, Forrester, you still in position?" he called to the men on the roof beneath the tower.

"Still here, can hear movement above."

"Ok I'm coming up, all others sit tight and watch your positions from behind."

Murphy's shadowed form moved silently across the ground, blending with the concrete walls and wooden pallets that dotted the area, making a line for the tower's base.

"JD get to ground, take position with Josiah and Nathan" Chris ordered. "Move quick but stay out of sight."

JD wanted to stay where he was, liking the high vantage that he had from the roof of the truck, but moved to follow the order quickly, jumping down to the ground and coming up behind his two team mates crouched low behind a shipping container.

The noise of the truck grew louder and finally they could see bright light coming up around the far right corner of the building.

..

Vin pulled himself out of the hatch, feeling the wet sand and weeds beneath his bare hands as he pushed himself up with a grunt of effort, his side pulling with the strain as he straightened himself up, tilting his face to the crisp night sky. It wasn't raining, but he didn't put much stock in the hope that it wasn't going to. He hadn't seen a star in the sky the entire time he'd been in the city. Still, looking up now at the open space, he was relieved to be above ground. He probably couldn't have taken much longer confined in the narrow tunnels.

Shole directed one of the men to replace the cover and conceal it once more amongst the dirt before signalling them all to move toward the fence up ahead.

Vin followed behind, letting the four men and Bruce take the lead and hearing the sound of a truck approaching from the right side of the complex. He studied the ground, noticing that it had recently seen the tread of many, many boots just as they neared the fence and Shole stopped them, pointing to a hole already cut in the wire.

"They came in through here."

What Vin knew Shole wasn't saying was that there were a lot of them, perhaps as many as there were guards. He was relieved to know that Larabee had come prepared.

Now there was a light accompanying the approaching engine noise and he waited to see what Shole's next move would be.

"We'll head through here as soon as they blow the truck, they've got men positioned just on the other side behind the shrub line next to the pallets. Soon as we come around we should see them. Be ready to take them out at my command."

"Wait."

Shole turned impatiently to Vin.

Vin shrugged. "What if they don't trigger the truck?" He'd told Larabee about the bomb and was fairly sure the explosives team would take care of it without detonating it.

Shole's brow rose. "I doubt they'll avoid the trigger. As soon as they lift the roof compartment it'll go." Then to Vin's complete dismay the man grinned, his teeth white in the shadow of his face as he spoke, pulling out a small remote control.

"And if it looks like they're taking too long, I'll speed things up for them."

Vin felt his heart skip a hollow beat. "You can detonate it from here?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to delay the situation as long as he could. He needed to think, to plan, to _act_, all at once.

"That's the idea." Shole turned once more to face the fence. "Alright, everybody get ready to move."

Vin moved closer to Shole, intentionally closing the distance between them. Like an ominous, menacing beast the truck finally pulled around the side of the building. Its brakes grated as they worked to slow down the massive hulk that sat above them to a crawl, taking a wide turn and rolling toward the bay marked Number Four with a loud final noise of compression as the driver brought it to a standstill. The engine remained idling as the bright front lights stabbed through the darkness like all-seeing eyes, catching the concrete wall of the building in their beams and illuminating a large metal door that led inside.

Vin felt his hand reaching for his boot and stopped himself. _Not yet._ He wished there was another way, but he couldn't let Shole blow that truck, no matter what else happened.

Now nothing moved. Vin's eyes worked furiously to see through the darkness before them and his ears strained to pick up any noise at all, knowing that the driver of the truck was most likely already out of his seat and heading down to safety.

..

Ivan and Cheese had reached the tower, accompanied by three of the security guards and were looking out over the scope of the bays lined before them when the truck made its way in. They could not see out through the darkness beyond the fence line, where they knew more of their men would be coming in, but they could see the surrounding bays and the men that were already closing in around the truck - and around the agents that they knew were lying in wait.

It took a few minutes of scouring the area, but finally one of the guards with them pointed to a truck a short distance beneath them.

"There, on the roof."

They peered out through the night and sure enough, were rewarded with the sight of an agent ducking his head out in their direction.

"He's spotted us," said another of the men watching at the window with them.

"Doesn't matter, they won't get up these stairs."

"Should we take him out?"

"No. We wait. We don't want to warn them off the truck, we have to lure them in. He's not going anywhere."

"Not if he sticks his head out like that again he's not."

Cheese exchanged a glance with Ivan and shrugged. Whatever the men did was fine by them, they were just up here to watch the show. They looked out into the darkness beyond the truck's lights that were now approaching, but could not see any sign of Vin or Bruce coming out of the scrub by the fence. From that distance, it was difficult to identify anyone clearly.

Meanwhile Murphy reached his men and together they circled around the base of the tower, trying to find a way up to the booth. Seeing none, they decided to climb back down the roof to the lower floor where they hoped to find an entry from the inside. Murphy kept Chris and the other teams informed as they moved, silently but quickly.

"JD keep your head down!" Josiah warned, seeing the young agent pop up beside him conspicuously yet again.

Chris shook his head but didn't say anything. How many times could he say the same thing? Repetition with JD obviously lost effect of the point rather than gained anything. Still, he didn't want him learning that particular lesson through experience. "Murphy, you reached your target yet?"

There was a short silence and then they heard Murphy answer them, sounding ever so slightly out of breath.

"Just reached a door beneath the second story landing, think it might take us up higher to the next platform. Give me another minute."

Again they waited and watched, every man on edge, knowing that at any moment the place could explode into action before they even made a move on the truck.

Murphy and his men broke into the door and sure enough found a set of stairs leading up to the next level, taking them cautiously but quickly until they came to another door, leading from within to what they were fairly certain was the tower, a story below the glass booth.

"OK, we're going in. Nigel, get your team ready," he spoke to the Captain of the Explosives Team. "Wait for my signal, when we've secured the tower you can move in if all clear."

An answering voice came in acknowledgement of the command and again there was silence.

Murphy signalled his men to follow, reaching forward and trying the door before moving back as he discovered it locked. He beckoned Niles forward, bidding him unlock the door and again they waited.

..

"What's takin' so damn long…" Bruce complained, his legs killing him from crouching on the ground. "Shouldn't they have moved in on the truck by now?"

Vin watched Shole's frown deepen, although he did not seem the least nervous. His hand still held the control and now he moved it in his grip as if testing its weight. He would have to move fast.

..

With a click the door opened and Murphy led his team inside the dark entrance, immediately spotting a staircase that was lit from above. Cautiously they stepped across the short space to the stairs and Murphy pointed up, gesturing with sharp, practised motions for Niles to cover the door and for Forrester to follow him up. They heard voices as they took the steps and approached the top floor and Murphy leant back into the shadows as the light reflected the shape of a body moving close to the stairwell. There was a half wall, which curved around before them and bent to the right, leading to the last step up into the room. The white, brick wall was low enough for someone to peer over from the top and look down.

..

"Why ain't they movin' in?" Cheese said in growing frustration. They'd been standing at the window of the massive tower waiting for something, _anything_, to happen.

"Lazy police work n nae mistake," Ivan said with authority. "Silly wee laddies prob'ly waitin' on a fuckin' dohnut delivray."

Cheese knew it was easy to be a smartass far removed behind a three story tower window, but found himself laughing all the same.

Their low chuckling was silenced by a sharp command for silence from the guards posted with them.

..

Below on the stairwell Murphy held his breath at the short, frustrated command that had silenced the voices above them. It stretched into long seconds until the heavily accented voice spoke again, not in the least deterred by the order.

"Did he just _shush_ me?!"

Cheese nodded, "Yup."

Ivan turned incredulous eyes on the guard that had tried to silence him. He wanted to give the man a chance before he punched him out. Nobody shushed _him_.

The guard looked from the stairs to the insane biker and back again, wishing he were anywhere but with the two crazy men that did not seem to understand the situation they were in. Did they think they were invincible? He put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the stairs, trying to indicate the danger from below.

Cheese grew impatient, not liking all of the anxiety the security agents were causing him. Their serious, military-like demeanor was starting to get to him. "You boys gotta learn ta fuckin' chill a little. Yer gonna get ulcers actin' all strung out like this all th'time. We're just observin' up here, remember? `Sides, yer holdin' a fuckin' machine gun, a mosquito couldn't get past that."

The guards ignored him, too intent on the men that they knew were coming up the stairs, one signalling to another and each pointing their guns at the stairwell exit.

It was Ivan that finally confirmed their proximity to the stairs for the listening agents down in the stairwell.

"You lads are startin' tae give me the fuckin' willies, all this sneakin `roond… the actions oot thair, not doon the fuckin' stairs!"

..

Murphy, leaning against the wall and looking up at the top of the stairs to their right, heard the warning and judged the shadow that suddenly grew over the low wall above their heads for what it was. He kicked back from the brick in a sudden movement that pushed Forrester back behind him just as the head of the first guard appeared in unison with a gun barrel pointed downwards towards them. Both Murphy and the guard opened fire at the same time but unlike the guard, Murphy had an exact position to shoot at when the rifle had nosed over the wall. He knew he'd hit home when blood sprayed over the white wall and the shadow disappeared.

The second to advance was right then but as he moved forward, Forrester right behind him and heading for the last steps up to the right, another gun suddenly replaced the first and this time the guard was taking no chances. He sprayed fire over the wall in all directions, relentlessly holding his finger on the trigger.

"BACK!" Murphy yelled, pushing back down the curved stairwell and out of the reach of the bullets. As he strove to descend the stairs to safety he felt a hot bullet sneak under his armour to nest into the top of his shoulder and fell the last steps into his men who were already in position to defend the stairwell.

Outside the tower, everything seemed to happen at once. The booth was by no means soundproof and the noise of the machine gun reaching full throttle was not mistaken, accompanied as it was by the peppered flashes of lightening that filled the window.

Guards circling beneath the tower reacted to the firing above and opened fire on the first agents they saw and the DEA was instant in its response. What ensued was a gun battle of the likes Denver had yet to see.

..

Cheese and Ivan had ducked to the ground as soon as the first shot had come from the stairs and they'd seen the guard's head explode from the back. As the guards moved to take up positions to pin the men and stop their advancement, they crawled beneath the window, which shattered above them, deciding enough was enough as they stayed low to avoid being hit by the gunfire now spraying up into the room.

"That'll teach the bastard tae shush me," Ivan pointed out with dark satisfaction as he moved. It was fate, he believed, the man getting his head blown off like that. Ivan was a firm believer in karma – and he thought the man's death a deserving end for the shushing.

"Thought we were jist watchin' up here! Watchin' my ass!" Cheese yelled as he led the fast crawl along the wall away from the window, Ivan right behind him. It was almost comical to watch the two big men on their hands and knees scampering along on all fours.

Ivan frowned then as a sudden noise that was not gunfire, but just as potentially deadly, reached his ears, his head not far from Cheese's rear end as they moved. He was suddenly worried about more than bullets and his suspicion was confirmed when he felt the air grow thick around his nose.

"Yer fuckin' kiddin' me!" He cried out in dismay. "Ye dirty wee fuck!" he continued to rant his own brand of insults as Cheese broke into gleeful laughter, crawling the rest of the way to the corner and collapsing as he turned around.

It was excellent timing – and Ivan was always good for a reaction, but if he thought he was away from the danger he was wrong. Ivan's enraged face was coming at him at a terrifying pace as he dove toward him.

"That wis bleedin' disgraceful! Right `n mah fuckin' mooth!"

The stunned guard that had been moving toward the window to return fire had stopped in his tracks then and turned, not believing what he was seeing. The two bikers were wrestling on the ground and, _laughing_? He'd heard these boys were all crazy, but now he knew it was true. Shaking his head and once more ducking from the bullets again flying above his head, smashing shards of glass still hanging defiantly around the edges of the frame, he waited for a lull in the firing and propped his machine gun up onto the ledge above him, letting loose his own deadly barrage of fire.

..

"Take cover!" Chris yelled from below. "_Murphy_!" He called desperately into his radio, wanting to know their situation.

"Chris," came a pained response over the noise of gunfire. "Got one from the stairwell… but we're pinned here… Can't get… to the booth."

Chris frowned but concentrated on the immediate danger. "Who's firing from the window? Can anyone get a shot?"

Even as Murphy contemplated the stairs, another hail of bullets slammed into the brick before them. "Not from here… we can't get up there. There's a man guarding the stairs."

Chris watched the booth light up again and heard the ricochette of bullets firing aimlessly around the area. The gunman could not stand up at the window to aim, which was one good thing.

"We need to take out that tower," Chris said.

"There's one man firing out the window," came the voice of Brett Thomas, leader of the DEA's Denver mobile unit.

"Can you get a shot?"

"He's not standing up, just holding the gun above the window ledge. I can send a man in to fire smoke from below, clear the booth out."

Chris spoke to Buck. "That would send them down to the stairs… Murphy?"

"Do it." They'd be ready for them.

"Alright, move your man in," he told Thomas.

The DEA leader motioned to his men and conveyed the order as Chris looked behind him and out into the darkness beyond the fence. Tanner had agreed to meet them on the left side perimeter… _where the hell was he?_

..

"Jesus, they've opened fire!" Bruce said as gunfire erupted from the complex.

"_Let's move in!_" Shole shouted and took off for the fence and ran into the grounds of the facility.

Vin reacted instantly, needing to get to Shole and stop him from blowing the truck and cursing himself for not being quicker on his feet. He ran on the heels of Bruce and watched as the guards moved on ahead. Suddenly he heard a shouted demand and in response, the guards opened fire ahead of him.

The DEA agents reacted instantly, returning fire and Vin found himself diving for cover. _"Bruce get down!"_ he yelled as he hit the ground roughly and ducked behind a stack of wooden pallets. He tried to see how far Shole and his men had gotten but was driven back by another hail of bullets.

Bruce, too, threw himself behind a makeshift barricade of old pallets that had far too many open slats for his liking. He could not see Vin in the darkness but he had heard the warning shout and knew he was behind him to his left.

"This is the DEA, Drop your weapons and come out!"

Vin scowled. The situation was going to hell, _fast_. He darted a glance along the left of his barricade, seeing a path that he could take to another pile of stacked crates. It would be a risky dash but he would have to try it. He couldn't afford to let Shole out of his sight, not while the man was intent on blowing the place to hell.

Ian Riker, the leader of the DEA's second mobile unit called out that they had several men pinned just inside the cut fence line they had entered through and Chris exchanged a quick look with Buck, thinking the same thing. Was Tanner one of them?

"I'm in place and ready to fire."

Thomas heard his agent, now positioned within firing range of the tower, and addressed Murphy. "Ready for your go-ahead Murphy."

Murphy nodded to his men, who were crouched and ready in the stairwell around him. Niles was holding pressure to the wound on his shoulder and he indicated for him to stop, gesturing that he would take the door and for him to advance on the booth, then he spoke closely into his headset. "Send it in."

..

Cheese and Ivan were no longer laughing, but they were still in the corner of the room away from the window when they heard a whistling noise and saw something fly through the open frame to land with a thud on the floor.

"What the fuck was that?" Cheese popped up to see, but Ivan dragged him back down.

"Git down ye fool!" He was picturing all sorts of evil grenades that cut people in half when they went off, but cops didn't have those… _did they?_

A moment later a hissing noise started and within mere seconds they heard the guards coughing.

"Gas!" One of the guards cried in alarm.

Now they were in trouble. It might not be a limb-hacking, shrapnel-filled grenade like Ivan had feared, but the stairs were blocked and they couldn't jump out on the window ledge to avoid being overcome. _Or could they..._

"Come oan…" he dragged Cheese with him to the window.

Cheese saw where he was being led and baulked, even as the gunfire from the stairs escalated and another guard went down. "Ya think ya can _fly_ now? I ain't goin' that way!"

But Ivan pulled him along to the ledge despite the protests. "Ye'd rather take the stairs?" He practically launched Cheese up and over the ledge, following right beside him.

Both men held on desperately as their weight caught up with them, struggling to find a grip and tearing their hands open on the broken glass.

"Fuck you Ivan!" Cheese cursed, not daring to look down as his legs swung in the free space.

"Stop moanin' ye fuckin' woman! Ye dinnae see me bein' aw negative now do ye?!" But the glass had gotten him too and it was all he could do not to shout with the pain. Still, even as he looked around for the nearest drop down, seeing a sloping roof that looked impossibly far away to their right, he'd never admit it had been a bad plan.

..

"Vin?"

Vin had been just about to haul himself forward and make a run for it when Bruce's voice called out to him.

"We gotta move!" he called back impatiently.

"Hang on!"

Before Vin could wonder what Bruce was going to do he heard the heavy thud of boots on the ground and a moment later the solid man came sliding in beside him like a player tackling home base, diverting his attention from the guards up ahead.

"So, what's the plan?"

For a moment Vin considered asking Bruce if he realised there were men with guns surrounding them, then decided he would just be wasting his breath, and time, which he didn't have an abundance of. Instead, he shook his head, peering back out at the path he'd been about to take before ducking back. "Ain't good. Shole's up thataway," he gestured up ahead to their left. "Figured I'd make a run fer it, try an' get ta that stack'a crates up ahead there."

Bruce leant in to Vin, trying to see over his shoulder. "Ok you go, I'll cover you. Then you can cover me."

Vin raised an eyebrow and looked at Bruce, letting the sarcasm swarm his words. "That's a hell'v'a plan."

"Thanks," came with a wide grin.

When Vin looked out again at the distance they had to run the flash of humour was gone. "Stay low."

Hearing nothing from the agents that had fired ahead on their right, he got up on his good knee and let out a short, sharp breath, then without further hesitation, sprang out into the open, pushing himself up and clear of the barricade in the blink of an eye. He wasn't as fast as he would have been if his knee wasn't pounding with every stride but together with the shots that Bruce started firing wildly behind him he made quick progress to the next cover. A too close bullet whizzing past his ear gave him the extra adrenaline he needed to sprint across the sodden ground and he threw himself behind the barricade, lying on his stomach and quickly looking for Shole. He spotted him not far ahead, close to a large metal shipping container. He wasn't all that far now from the left perimeter and wondered if Larabee had waited there or moved further in. His ribs were screaming at him as he lay on the damp, muddy ground, not near ready for all of the rough movement

and he straightened out his bent knee, rubbing the swollen muscle to try and ease the pain.

"VIN!"

He turned his body with a grimace and tried to gesture to Bruce to tell him to stay put, but the stocky frame was already clear of the barrier and on the move toward him. Quickly he sat up, gun in hand and looked out toward the agents positioned nearby. He saw several guns poke out of the side of the barrier that had fired at them before and fired himself before they could take a shot, not hesitating to give Bruce the cover he needed, but keeping his aim just higher than their heads. It was enough to stop them from returning fire on the madly running man. Once again Bruce made it to safety, this time with a wild `_Yeehaa!_' as he slid home.

Lowering his gun and checking the clip, his back up against the wooden crates, Vin did not bother to look at Bruce as he sarcastically suggested, "Reckon there might be a few agent's left that don't know we're here." At this rate, they were going to bring the whole field down on them.

Bruce slapped him on the arm, too pumped up to take him seriously. "Then we'd better wake `em the hell up!" He looked around and suddenly his gaze was drawn upward by the noise of the gunfire coming from the tower that they could now see clearly. Suddenly his jaw dropped as recognition hit and again he tapped Vin on the arm, harder this time. "Tell me that ain't who I think it is."

Vin slid his cartridge back in place and looked up with a frown. It didn't take long to see Cheese and Ivan swinging like monkeys from the broken window as the sounds of the gun battle raged inside. He realised he probably shouldn't have been surprised at seeing them in such a predicament, but they had certainly surpassed anything he could have imagined them getting up to. They were sitting ducks up there, with nowhere to go that he could see.

"What the fuck are those clowns doin'," Bruce said, shaking his head. Without warning he half stood up, "JUMP YA STUPID BASTARDS!"

A wild shot was fired toward them from the agents, who couldn't get a good shot at their position from the angle of their cover, but there was always the chance of a stray bullet finding its way and so Vin ducked low with a curse, grabbing Bruce and violently pulling him back behind the crates. Enough was enough.

"Are ya _tryin'a_ get us killed?!" he asked in disbelief. Bruce was like a moving, dodging, screaming target pinned to his side. He looked around, ready for the entire force of agents to close in on them, still cursing the man beside him.

Stretching out along the ground he looked for Shole and saw him crouched down, his men gathered close and giving their attention to the device in Shole's hands. He didn't want to get his hopes up but from where he sat, it looked like there was a problem with the detonator. The way his luck had been going lately, he could do with a break.

..

Josiah looked at Nathan as they both heard a loud shout come from just around their metal barrier. A moment earlier they had heard the noise of men running not far ahead, but they had not realised how close they were until the shout to jump had rung out and a shot had sounded just a short distance away. It was all JD could do not to jump up and run out of their cover firing.

"Did you hear that? They're right there!"

Josiah did not say anything to JD, he was past that, past trying to understand how the kid could fail to recognise the seriousness of their situation and so he merely looked at him, staring at the younger man until the unaware agent finally blinked back in understanding. Josiah's stern face had delivered its request for silence without having had to say a word.

Having also heard the shout from ahead Buck turned to Chris, having no idea how close Tanner actually was to them and just frustrated that the man had yet to show as agreed. "We can't sit here forever."

Chris again scanned the darkness behind them. No, they couldn't sit there while their men closed in on the truck. Buck was right, they needed to move forward. Besides, if Tanner was going to meet them there, he would have shown up by then. _So why the hell hadn't he?_

Riker's voice informed them. "Larabee, two men have come your way, they're directly in front of you, no longer in our range. They're both armed."

Chris acknowledged the call and got ready to move. "Heads up, Buck and I are coming in," he called to his team ahead, motioning to Buck to move out first.

Josiah moved back to his position on the left, giving the two agents room to run in and take position along side them.

"All clear," Nathan called, constantly listening and watching for any movement.

Buck and Chris moved fast and quietly, coming up behind the three agents and settling into position along the damp ground.

"Just the two?" Chris whispered to Nathan who was closest, wanting to confirm Riker's call.

Nathan nodded, pointed straight ahead through their metal barricade, then he gestured over to their left.

He spoke softly. "Take caution, it could be him." He then gave a nod, signalling that Josiah, JD and Buck take the left and he and Nathan would round the container from the right, looking for the two men just in front of them. He was about to signal to move forward when the gunfire in the tower came to an abrupt halt and he gestured to Josiah to take a look, the only one who could see from their position.

The big man looked out and up at the tower before quickly moving back to cover and shaking his head. He'd just seen two bikers clinging to the window for their lives, swinging from the ledge like orang-utans at the zoo.

"All clear up here," came Murphy's voice. They'd just taken out the last guard, who had refused to surrender himself for arrest.

Chris frowned and looked at Josiah, the only one able to see the top of the tower clearly. "You've got two men hanging from the window, trying to find a way down," Josiah informed Murphy, at the same time speaking to Chris, not sure if the DEA leader was aware of the men trying to escape.

Chris shook his head, he couldn't see the tower, but knew it was a long drop to the ground.

Inside the booth, Murphy frowned at that information, even as he gestured to his men to move forward to the

window. Sure enough, they spotted hands clinging desperately to the torn ledge and a moment later heard their voices.

"_Go_!" Ivan yelled at Cheese, and not for the first time.

While the gunfire had still gone on above them, they'd been trying to get enough momentum in the swing of their legs to launch themselves from the ledge and try and land on the tin roof below and to their right. Yet even as Ivan hesitated to let go, he'd still tried to get Cheese to go first.

"Fuck you! _You_ go!" was the terrified response. "Look at the angle we have ta make, I told ya it wasn't gonna work!"

Ivan considered the corrugated metal again before looking up at his hands. They were bleeding from the jagged pieces of glass that were cutting into them and the blood was dripping down into his face. Then suddenly the bullets stopped above them and everything went quiet. He shared a look with Cheese.

"Maybe we won..?" Cheese suggested.

"I ain't stickin' round tae find oot!"

It was now or never. As he saw the shadow of men looming out above them, Ivan made a final swing back with his legs and threw his body to the right, feeling his hands rip free of the glass as he let go. For a terrifying moment he felt himself falling through the free air, able to do nothing more than will himself to make contact with the roof – any part of the roof - he wasn't picky at that point.

Then, by some miracle of gravity, he managed to catch the guttering of metal with one desperate, bleeding hand. He was a good drop beneath the window and it took a valiant struggle of flailing legs and straining arms to drag himself up to safety, slightly battered and breathing hard, but well and truly alive.

..

"Well fuck me he made it!" Bruce said as he and Vin stared up at Ivan, now pulling himself up onto the roof, the guttering looking precariously unstable as it moved with his weight. "He'd do Wallace proud pullin' a move like that!"

Vin's head gave a slight, unconscious shake, he couldn't believe he'd made it either. For a moment there, he'd forgotten to take a breath as the Scotsman had let fly.

..

"One man's down, he made it to the roof below, there's still one up there," Josiah informed Murphy.

Ivan didn't waste time after he landed and immediately motioned to Cheese, shouting as he gestured for him to let go too.

"Come oan!" He beckoned wildly, not able to see the window any more from the side angle he was now on, but having a good view of his friend's dangling body.

Cheese looked back up at the agents now reaching out towards his hands. So much for the guards and their

machine guns.

"Back off!" he yelled at them.

"They're gonna get him," Bruce said, shaking his head, getting worried.

Sensing Bruce's panic Vin used a calm tone. "Just give him a minute.

They waited in silence while Cheese dangled over the ground, clearly at war with himself as he tried to mount the courage to swing himself to the landing.

"Seriously, they're gonna shoot him!"

"Just wait!" Vin said, but Bruce had had enough.

"Fuck it." And without another thought he stood up, gun in hand, and fired at the window, not stopping until his gun clicked empty.

The agents at the window weren't prepared for the volley of shots that went thankfully high and wide, slamming into the concrete around them. They ducked down immediately, Murphy instantly calling for information.

"Who the hell's firing down there?!"

Riker answered. "It's the two men bunkered down behind a stack of crates. You'll have to take them out Larabee, I can't get to them from here and I can hear more men coming up behind us. Keep your heads down up there boys!"

Chris scowled at the barrier in front of him. If it _was_ Tanner, why the hell would he fire at the agents in the window?

He motioned to his men to get ready, not willing to let whoever it was take another shot.

..

"There's no point killing yourself, you'll never make the fall!" Forrester called out to Cheese, crouched now with Niles and Murphy beneath the window.

"Bite me," Cheese said almost to himself, his voice strained and speaking more to build his own courage than for the benefit of the men above him. He moved his hands over the broken glass towards the end of the window to close the distance to the roof that Ivan was now standing on and felt them slice open again. He cursed as he fought to hold onto his thread of composure, his arms straining at having to hold his own weight for so long.

"_Now_ ye daft bastard! Come _oan_!" Ivan encouraged, knowing that someone was covering Cheese's escape by having fired up at the window.

"Shut the fuck up!" Cheese yelled, still manoeuvring himself to make the attempt at Ivan's landing spot.

"Ye waitin' oan a written fuckin' invitation?"

It was the final straw. As Ivan taunted him once more Cheese snapped from all of the pressure, just as Ivan wanted him to.

"I said shut the _fuck_ up!" He was terrified, but he did it anyway, more to pounce on Ivan and pound him for

his insensitivity than to save himself. He swung out with everything he had, letting go at a precisely timed point in his swing… and missed the gutter completely.

With a slightly open mouth Ivan watched Cheese fall past him, arms still out and ready to assist him. He winced as his friend fell and his body connected with edge of the next level down. For a moment he thought he might grab a hold of the ledge below, but it was not to be. His blood slick fingers were not able to get a grip on the smooth metal guttering and Cheese fell the remaining distance to the ground.

With dismay, Ivan watched Cheese free fall the remaining level down, his mouth forming an empathetic grimace as he heard his body land on the concrete, twisting awkwardly before becoming still.

"Jesus!" Bruce said, ready to run and help him.

"Wait!" Vin cursed, grabbing the impetuous man and holding him back. "There's agents all over the place, ya can't run out there now!" He knew every agent around them had a bead on them after Bruce had jumped up and unloaded his gun at the window, if they hadn't before that. He could almost feel the creeping silence around them. The agents were closing in, he could sense the danger as vividly as if he were seeing them with his own eyes.

But Bruce had other ideas. He shrugged out of Vin's hold. "I ain't sittin' here while they take him!"

"You're empty," Vin pointed out.

For a second Bruce looked at his gun and then shrugged, grinning at him. He hadn't brought any extra ammo, hadn't thought they would need it. "Fuck it. They don't know that."

"Are you _crazy_?!" Vin felt his hold on Bruce's sleeve slip as the hell bent man sprung up. He tried to stretch himself out to grab his legs before he got away but was not quick enough to stop him leaving their meagre cover. "_Bruce_!" he whispered harshly, watching him run out into the night. "_Fuck_!" He hit the wooden crate with his hand in frustration. He was already ducking himself back to cover when he felt a hot sting across his temple accompanied by an instant, burning pain. As the sound of the stray bullet tearing into the wood next to his head registered he knew he'd been damn lucky. A few millimetres more and it could have been all over. As it was, he was having a hard time sitting back up.

He raised a hand to the graze and felt warm blood coat his fingers, cursing again as he realised that Bruce's

foolishness was forcing him to make a decision. The reckless man was going to get himself killed if he didn't back him up, but a lot more people would die if Shole got that detonator working. With a groan he got to his knees, the pain from the swollen joint forgotten with the new rhythmic throbbing at the side of his head. He needed to move and yet suddenly all he wanted to do right then was lie down and sleep. The

night seemed to be colourless all of a sudden, a canvas of black and white. Everything seemed dulled, subdued, quiet… but he knew that couldn't be right, for a moment ago he had plainly heard gunfire behind him. He had to get moving, that much he knew. Bruce. _Where the hell did he go?_

_.._

Ivan continued to watch Cheese for a sign of life, keeping low on the roof and peering over the edge, his breath held tight in his chest. After what seemed like a lifetime, he saw Cheese's hand move, then his arm, then he heard a distinct groan, even from the long distance and a wide grin split his face. His messy contact with the gutter might not have stopped his friend's fall, but it had broken his impact with the ground, hopefully saving his life. He called out in glee.

"Cheese ye useless git!"

Cheese groaned again and blinked up at the darkness above him, wondering if he was dead. _Mom...?_

"Ye fuckin' unco twat!"

A bit deep in the voice, but still possibly his mother… He blinked again and finally saw Ivan's pale face peering down at him from a distance. If he wasn't mistaken, his friend was grinning as he shouted through his cupped hands.

"A little maire tae yer right the next time!"

It took a while, but an answering hand finally lifted itself off the pavement and one finger came up in response.

"_Shuuuush_!" Cheese managed to call feebly before collapsing back on the ground to stare up at the black sky. He knew he needed to move, but he had no idea how he was going to manage it. He didn't even know if he had broken anything, he was too scared to check.

"Cheeky bastard," Ivan said with great affection before shouting. "Dinnae make me come doon there!" But there was a smile on the man's lips as he began looking for a way down.

Cheese, too, was smiling as he let his head fall back on the concrete, content to wait exactly where he was for Ivan to come and get him. He closed his eyes but opened them again as he felt a heavy drop of water hit his face. Great, that's all he needed to top things off. Flat on his back in the rain… Then he heard the noise of a heavy door opening and closing along the wall not far away. Lifting his head he tried to focus on the man he saw emerge from the bright light of the door, fully illuminated by the truck's blinding headlights. A second earlier and he might have believed it was God with all that white light, but now he was seeing a little more clearly. _Or was he... _What the hell would Rizzo be doing out there?!

..

As the drama on the roof came to an abrupt end, Josiah informed Chris that both men were now down and together the team shifted around the metal container, looking for the men that had shot at the tower right in front of them. They crept silently around their cover. A shout suddenly came from ahead, up on the other side of the truck, accompanied by gunfire and Riker's men called that they had engaged with more guards who had tried to come up behind them. There was an agent down.

Chris cursed. They were meant to have had the upper hand and here they were, engaged in battle with armed, uniformed men coming out of the woodwork all around them. And where the _hell_ was Tanner?! This was his parade!

They crept on, forming a line as they searched for the gunmen, each man's hand ready on the trigger of their gun as rain started to fall straight down, hindering their vision and making the situation even more precarious.

..

Vin cursed as he stumbled yet again, the ground seeming unsteady beneath his determined boots. His single focus was to get to Shole, knowing he could not be far ahead. He'd lost track of Bruce when he'd run off to save Cheese and he'd had to make the decision to go for Shole, who posed the greater threat. He kept low, the pain in his knee resurging with the added pressure, but he was not yet willing to risk another bullet finding his head by standing too high. The shock of the close call had subsided, but the instant pain he'd felt had not.

He could not see Shole right then, but knew he could not be far ahead. Gunfire sounded behind him and he was almost relieved to hear it. He'd been frightened for a moment when he realised that his world had been blanketed in an unnatural silence. A flash of skin up ahead had him ducking again to the ground, his eyes taking in every bit of the darkness before him, but the rain had started up again, making it harder to see. Again he pushed up, his world tilting with the sudden change in elevation, but moved forward.

Chris too, was moving forward, impatiently wiping water from his face, his men creeping with him on either side. Now they could see the truck clearly through the streaks of heavy rain on their left and the fallen man from the tower lying flat on his back. In the headlights of the truck there was another biker, simply standing there, staring back at the truck as if trying to determine its species.

Then from their right came the sound of pounding boots on the sodden ground and he signalled for his team to drop. Instantly they complied, kneeling on the wet earth with their guns ready to face what was obviously an open attack.

Bruce had been running with all of the stealth of a steam train at full speed when he finally spotted the agents dead ahead of him. They were turned toward him and although they had heard him, they still could not see him, but he could see them, for they were in the light cast by the tower and the truck, whereas he was still in the shadows. He had the advantage of the darkness and he quickly tried to divert his path to his right, trying to avoid them.

Not far behind Vin heard, more than saw, Bruce running straight toward the agents and knew he would not reach him in time, there were too many of them and the hell bent man had dashed right at them. All the same, he willed himself to run. He could barely make him out, but what he could see was enough. Flashes of white skin up ahead told him that Bruce was surrounded, he was facing off with a group of men that he could have avoided if he had just thought ahead. He was right on top of them and there was no way he would get there in time to help him. He wasn't going to make it. The agents were going to take him down.

He lifted his gun and tried to make out Bruce's body, his vision blurred by more than rain as he contemplated taking the biker down himself with a shot that would not be as lethal as the agents would likely deliver. Maybe he could bring him down without killing him, but his arm shook as his arm wavered. He could not see clearly and he could not risk hitting the agents.

He heard Bruce shout and knew then that the damn fool was going to make a stand. He would raise his gun to them and they would shoot him down, not knowing that his gun was not loaded. He was desperate to avoid an unnecessary death, frustrated that he could not use his gun when he needed it most, pissed off as hell that his head was pounding and the rain was blinding him and bordering on opening fire on Bruce

himself just for the sake of it because the man had acted so stupidly… and so he ran forward again, trying to divert their attention, letting them see him as he shouted out with everything that he could put into his voice.

"It's not loaded! Don't shoot!"

Even as the biker pelted straight for them, Larabee and his men realised that he had not intentionally come at them, rather he had mistakenly run straight at them and then tried to alter his course by dodging to his right. Chris shouted a warning as he trained his gun at him all the same.

"Stop! Throw down your gun!"

Each of them aimed at the shape of the man before them, the little light that there was revealing him just in time to see that he was brandishing a gun with little care for a target.

Bruce had realised too late that he was outnumbered with nowhere to go. He'd run straight into them and now they were right on top of him. But he had a secret weapon, he knew that Vin was behind him. He had made an attempt to run, but knew now it was pointless, they would shoot him down if he ran – and he wasn't going out like that. He spun back and faced them, raising his empty gun in a fearless show of misspent courage, aware that he was now revealed to them in the light.

"Fuck you!" he shouted back at the line of men, even as some part of him willed frantically for Vin to back him up.

As he re-aimed his own gun, Chris was confident that his bullet would be fast enough to stop the man firing, but he was waiting until the last possible second to give the man a chance to back down.

"Just drop the gun and take a step back, there's no need to go down this way," he reasoned, but when he saw the gunman concentrate his aim directly toward the sound of his voice, he knew he was going to fire. His first shot rang out in time to Buck's, with JD's own gun exploding right beside him. It was the first shot Agent

Dunne had taken in the field, and it landed an inch from Bruce MacKay's heart.

As the gunfire sounded before him, Vin's determined shout was lost to the noise as he could only look on in horror at what was happening. He stepped forward toward the scene, still trying to close the distance even as he saw Bruce jerk with the impact of bullets hitting him chest height and felt his own legs try for a halting jog. He shouted again, not caring any more about giving himself away as he surged forward, his own voice causing his head to pound mercilessly as he tried to stop them.

"It's not loaded!" He yelled again in a rough voice, knowing it was futile as his shout was again drowned out by the explosion of bullets. "Damn it!" he staggered forward until suddenly the agents were all aware of him, but he was too intent on watching Bruce fall backward to the ground.

"Drop your weapon!" Buck shouted, spinning and re-aiming toward the second figure that had moved up beside them.

Vin heard the command but for a brief moment was aware only that Bruce had just been shot dead, and he had done nothing to stop it. He tipped his head back to the rain and for a second nearly shouted out his frustration to the sky. The movement of his head nearly toppled him backward.

"I said drop it!" Bruck commanded again, Chris, JD and Josiah all joining him in training their weapons on the second biker.

They had killed Bruce. Bruce who had run head first into a team of agents and defied them all with an empty gun, and he had not done anything.

"Last warning, _drop the fucking gun!"_

He blinked and tilted his head back down, finding the silhouette of the man ordering him to relinquish his gun… He could end this now. He could stop the ache in his head, and more importantly, stop people from dying at his hands, and he could do it in a heartbeat… all he had to do was raise his arm…

_"Vin?"_

For a moment the voice didn't register, he merely stared back at the shadowed faces before him. But then he turned his head to the shape of the man who had moved out toward him, taking one tentative step in his direction and a sliver of light found it's way to revealing Chris Larabee standing before him.

Chris saw the recognition returned in Vin's eyes as he moved closer and sighed a breath of relief. For a moment, he'd had the feeling that he wasn't going to comply. Something in the lean frame shadowed before them had told him who it was. He couldn't say exactly when he'd realised it, but it was in the way the man had just stood, his gun lowered seeming… _lost_ somehow.

Seeing that it was indeed Tanner, Nathan moved and crouched over Bruce, checking his condition just as the man spoke through bloodied lips.

_"Vin…"_

The word, spoken this time through the rain with a voice filled with pain and confusion, caused Vin to turn his head, blinking again to clear the dark thoughts that had entered without warning. He looked at Bruce, lying on the ground before him, before stepping forward and finding Larabee's probing eyes.

"It wasn't loaded…" he repeated simply, his voice rough and barely heard above the rain pounding on the ground around them, but Chris heard him.

As Vin stepped toward him, the ATF Captain caught site of the blood spilling down his face, fighting the rain for dominance of his skin. Vin moved past him to the bleeding man on the ground and his torn words registered. _It wasn't loaded._ Damn. They couldn't have known that, the threat was real enough. Still, it changed the situation. He followed behind the injured undercover agent, seeing that he looked ready to fall and grew more concerned by the dark blood covering his face. As he stepped closer, Vin indeed staggered forward, his knees breaking his fall with an accompanied grunt of pain beside the dying man on the ground.

Buck looked at Chris and shook his head. He stepped forward but was stopped when the long haired man spoke to Nathan, who shook his head to Vin in silence. The man they had shot was seconds away from dying.

_"Vin?"_

Vin looked at Bruce, regret in his eyes as he saw the blood frothing from the pale lips.

"Bruce," he said, reaching out for his hand.

Bruce opened his eyes, struggling to speak. _"Vin… fuck… were… you?"_

Vin closed his eyes for a moment before looking again at Bruce, determined to face him. He wanted to tell him he was sorry but could not seem to find the words and by the time he looked up, he saw that words were no longer necessary. He was dead. In silence he reached out and closed the man's eyes to the rain.

_**"Where the fuck were you?!"**_

Buck had waited long past his patience for answers, but the words he chose at that moment served to stab Vin right in the heart, for they were the same ones that Bruce had just spoken. His final words. He suddenly realised the irony of the situation. His team were pissed at him for not finding them sooner and Bruce had died pissed at him for not getting to him on time… _and for what?_ Why hadn't he been watching Bruce's back? What could be more important?

And with that thought he snapped back to reality with a determined glint in his eye. He was thinking clearer than he had since the night had started. _Shole_.

Shole was the reason he hadn't followed Bruce. He'd been going after the detonator. Getting up so fast he swayed and had to ward off the helping hand of Nathan, who had risen with him, he ignored Buck and faced Larabee.

"Call everyone back, the truck's gonna blow," he said to Chris directly and made to move away, needing to resume his search for Shole. The bullet had caused him to forget his purpose and he needed to rectify that immediately now that his head didn't feel like it was swimming in a bucket of water.

But Buck stopped him with his gun. "Stay where you are, I want some answers." He didn't even look at Chris before he argued. "He shows up at the last second, nearly letting his friend here take us out, and you expect me not to have questions?!"

Vin looked back at Buck even as he limped away from them. "Check his gun an' see how far he'd a gotten takin' ya'll out… And shoot me in the damn back if ya want, but I gotta stop that truck from blowin'."

Chris called out to him. "Wait."

He turned and impatiently met the solid gaze.

"The bomb squad have already entered the truck. They'll disarm the mechanism as planned. You're in no condition to go back out there."

"Look, I know I got a lot ta explain and I know this night's been one big fuckin' mess, but right now ya need ta call everyone back. The truck's got a remote detonator and right now it's in the hands a' the guards."

Chris stared at Vin's expression for less than a second before making the call as he moved toward him.

"Fall back from the truck! All teams fall back – it's rigged with a remote - clear the hell out of there!"

He stepped up to Vin who nodded and started to turn away but was stopped again by a hand to his arm. Chris studied Vin's determined face.

"You know where the remote is?"

Vin nodded. "Big guy. Shole. He's in charge out here."

Still Chris held his arm, making sure he understood his intention. "You're not going after him alone."

Vin looked back at the men standing behind Chris, all ready to follow him. He gave a short nod and headed out.


	21. Fire In The Night

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. This was all about rewriting the last third, so I hit a wall, but I've got it sorted now and a plan to the end finally. Thanks to those that have reviewed and sent messages, it's wonderful to get feedback, it is so much appreciated and you've totally motivated me to get this finished :) Not to mention its so cool to hear from some of you I haven't heard from in way too long :))) 'nuff from me.

**Part 21. Fire In The Night**

Back out at the complex Sugar looked around Suzy's room, uncomfortable in the decidedly feminine furnishings.

"You gonna stand there all night, or you wanna take that big load off your feet?"

He finally looked at her, seeing her lounging coyly on the soft pink cover of her bed. She was studying him with hooded eyes, a knowing smile playing on her painted lips. Sugar took a deep breath and crossed to the dresser, leaning his hip against it and giving her a hard look.

"Is this what you've become? A woman willin' ta sleep with anyone if it'll get what you want?"

Suzy looked like she'd been slapped but was not sure why the comment had cut her so deeply. It wasn't the worst thing anyone had ever said to her. She'd been called a whore daily ever since she'd become Billy's woman. She got to her feet angrily and pointed to the door.

"Get the fuck out of here."

To her surprise, Sugar laughed. "Oh you don't just look like her…" he said somewhat reflectively.

That stopped her cold. "Like who?" She dismissed him by turning her back, but he did not leave. He was unsettling her. His eyes looked at her as if he actually gave a damn about her and she did not know how to react. No one had been concerned about her in a long, long time.

"You're a smart girl, Suzy. You know things are about to change around here. You called me up here because you know something and you think I can help you. Tell me what's goin' on."

She turned back to face him. It was true, she'd called him to her room because she knew that Billy was out of his depth and because she sensed that Sugar could help her. But now that it came to it she was frightened – frightened to betray the man that had ruled her life for as long as she could remember.

Sugar looked her in the eye and his face was so sincere that she actually believed him when he spoke to her. His voice was softer than she had ever heard it, tender almost, and for once she found herself moving forward toward shelter, instead of running.

"I can help you. Tell me what Billy's up to. You know he's got himself over his head – do you think he's going to be there for you when he goes down? And he _will_ go down. Eddie's on his way and if Billy's out of line, he's going to get himself taken out."

She surprised him by giving a wry laugh. "If he makes it here you mean."

Sugar's breath held. "So he _is_ trying to take him out," he said almost to himself. He was lost in thought for a moment while Suzy's eyes widened.

"You _knew_?"

Sugar turned back to her. "I suspected… he had the borders watched." He had to get in touch with Eddie. "What else?"

Suzy sat down again, but her body language was no longer inviting. She shrugged. "I just know that he's been talking a lot about what he'd do if he was in charge. _Really_ in charge. And I know he's been uptight about Eddie comin' and interfering with his plans here. He was really pissed when he didn't show up at the border. I've never seen him look so… _scared_ almost."

Sugar scowled as he stepped toward the door. "He should be." He turned back. "Keep your eyes open, things are only starting to get bad around here." His voice softened again. "I'll watch out for you, but keep your head out of trouble as best you can."

"I don't need anyone looking out for me," her lips revealed, but her eyes said something else.

..

With Larabee and the rest of his team behind him Vin pressed forward, leaving Bruce behind as he concentrated on keeping hidden behind a long line of crates that marked the boundary into the open bay area. He knew he had to stay hidden, that he'd have a hard time explaining his presence amongst the ATF agents should he be seen. It was dark, but he knew his clothing was an instant give-away. He was doing his best to put Bruce from his mind, knowing that to dwell on his guilt and loss now could cost more than he was prepared to give. Most of him knew it wasn't his fault, but a part of him refused to ignore the fact that

it was he who had brought the ATF team and the club to the same meeting ground. Without his intervention Bruce could well have been anywhere tonight, not lying in the mud dead like he was now, pissed off that his `friend' hadn't gotten his back.

His heavy boots stumbled over the ground but he kept his pace steady, hearing the slosh of puddled earth beneath his feet as he used a hand to wipe at the blood on the side of his face.

Chris was waiting for an update from the now retreating explosives team when he saw Tanner stumble and resisted putting a hand out to help him, knowing the determined man would not appreciate it.

"You going to be ok?" He asked instead.

"M'fine," was the curt reply.

Still looking at Tanner's back, Chris called for backup. "Murphy, we need your boys to cover us. We're going after the detonator. Coming up on the South perimeter now."

The answering voice was reassuring. "My men are in position. Nigel get your boys the hell out of there now!"

Shrugging off Forrester's attempt to look at his shoulder wound again, Murphy watched from the tower window like a hawk, keeping one eye on the two bikers pinned beneath them taking their time to surrender and the other on the truck. He could not see the back of the vehicle, but he knew he should be seeing men evacuating the area at Larabee's urgent command.

The team evacuating the truck had no chance to respond to Murphy when they were suddenly confronted with the site of armed guards opening fire right at them.

Shole and his men had come up on them and caught them trying to suddenly flee the site and had immediately fired on them from the safety of a border of wooden crates at the perimeter of the truck bay.

Shole himself was swearing, pissed off that things had not gone simply. First the remote detonator had refused to work and then, just when his men had nearly put it back together, something had alerted the cops to the danger. The plan had been to let the bastards gather around the truck, drawing them in before he blew them all to hell, taking as many out as possible. He hadn't been too concerned over the time it was taking to fix the device because the agents had moved in slowly, but something had happened and they were now trying to move out.

He betrayed his normally calm demeanour by cursing loudly, "Damn it, hurry the hell up! We need to blow this thing now!"

His second in charge, Thomas Dixon, had startled at the tone and dropped the back panel that he'd nearly had in place back down onto the ground, causing Shole to swear yet again. The device had to be put back exactly right or it wouldn't function. That didn't mean, however, that he was about to let the agents all run to safety when he'd waited so patiently to lure them all in. Leaving Dixon to sort out the remote he stood from his cover and aimed his weapon again at the retreating agents. Whatever the reason for them pulling out, he wasn't about to let them get away.

..

The sounds of the latest battle rising in the air had Chris's concern escalating as no attempt from either him or Murphy could raise the explosives leader who was now under fire. Then suddenly the words no-one wanted to hear came through their transmitters.

"The Captains' down! We have three men down! We're under fire, taking cover in the truck," came the dismal report.

"Fuck." The curse tore from Chris's lips as he heard the news.

"We're coming up on the boundary a few yards to your right, Larabee," Riker informed him. They'd managed to take down a band of guards that were pinning them near the fence line and were now finally able to move forward.

"Second Unit has secured the Western perimeter and are pushing forward," came Thomas's voice. A new sense of urgency had pervaded the area following the latest report. "We have two boys on the roof above the target taking fire from below. Those sons of bitches should be right ahead of you Larabee."

"Alright everyone move forward, we need to give those boys some cover to get the hell out of there, but watch yourselves, this thing is rigged to go," Chris reminded them all.

He knew that caution was needed, given what they knew about the bomb, but he also knew that there was a team of fellow agents being cut down beyond the boundary line and that every man there would do what he could to get them out of there.

Finally they reached the end of a long line of crates, the gunfire directly on the other side. Chris crouched beside Vin, who looked ready to leap out into the open and take aim.

"OK, let's do this right," he instructed. "Nathan, Josiah, take JD and head around to the right. Buck, you're with me."

Vin looked at him expectantly and was not happy with his next words. "You stay out of sight."

The surprised lift of his chin and the defiant expression on his face said it all.

"I'm not kidding. I don't have to tell you what it means to get seen with us out there taking them down." Seeing the argument and not having time for it, Chris frowned. "You want to stay on this case you do it my way and I won't have my orders questioned. Understood?"

Vin clenched his jaw but said nothing. Like hell he was staying behind.

Chris let his hard look linger on Tanner's expression as he called for Thomas. "Are your men still holding position?"

"Two up on the roof, six with me."

"We have the target dead ahead, they're to your right after the last yellow container. Hold position in case they retreat back your way."

"We can move forward, come up behind them."

"Negative. We'll be dead ahead of you, hold back, we don't want any friendly fire tonight."

"Copy that," Thomas confirmed.

"Riker, get ready to get those boys out of there," he then told the other mobile unit.

"I've sent two men in to back you, I'm with the rest at the boundary, waiting for your signal to move in."

"Murphy, get ready to give us some cover." Chris looked up at the rest of his team. "Alright, let's do this." He

intentionally looked at JD. "Watch your aim, there's always the chance of a stray hitting our men waiting behind them."

JD nodded, the last thing he wanted to do was shoot his own side.

"Moving in," Chris said, pressing forward. With that, they moved as one, moving cautiously but determinedly out of their cover, heading for the gun-play dead ahead of them.

Vin watched them move out and waited all of ten seconds to follow them, not about to sit there and leave them open like that. That he was disobeying a direct order didn't enter into it, but no sooner had he stood up and moved to the side of the crate, raising his gun as he moved, he felt a bullet explode into the wood no more than a foot from his shoulder. Spinning and dropping hard to his stomach, he stretched his arms out before him along the ground, gun raised and searching up for a target in the shadows.

"Throw out your weapon and put your hands to the back of your head!" Agent Knowles had the biker dead in his sights. The first shot had been a warning, his second would not miss. He'd watched the bastard take aim at Larabee's team right in front of him and wasn't taking any chances.

Vin growled softly in frustration. DEA - and they had him pinned. He'd been so busy worrying about the men ahead of him he hadn't heard them come up behind him. There was no excuse for being snuck up on like that.

"I said drop your weapon, _now_!"

With no choice Vin threw the gun out ahead of him.

"And put your hands behind your head." Knowles signalled to his partner to follow him forward.

Vin obeyed the order, raising his arms up with difficulty and tensing his stomach to keep his face out of the mud. Knowles approached while his partner stepped cautiously beside him.

"I don't want to stay here," his partner, Bradley, said to Knowles as they moved further forward.

Vin watched the movement of their boots in front of his face. `Knowles' moved forward and bent a knee to the ground and Vin heard the sound of handcuffs being opened as his arm was pulled down behind his back.

"You an' me both. We'll chain him to that loop in the container there and move on ahead," Knowles said as he snapped the metal cuff around the unresisting wrist and pulled the remaining arm of the biker down from the back of his head.

In the next instant, however, the unprepared DEA agent was trying to work out what had hit him as the body beneath him twisted sharply and the assumingly defeated man on the ground sprang at him, one strong fist leading as he came up and knocked him off his feet to the ground with a hard hook to the jaw.

Not only was Vin then on his feet and unrestrained, he had Knowles' gun in his hands and had already turned to take care of the other agent, Bradley, who had reacted too slowly to come to his partner's aid. His boot reached Bradley's cheek as he kicked out and sent the agent backwards into the crates, watching him slip to the ground, eyes closed and unaware as he too, was relieved of his weapon. He turned then and saw Knowles staring up at him in the darkness, but the two guns he now brandished kept the agent where he lay. He thought about telling him to chain himself to the container, just as they had intended to do to him, but renewed gunfire up ahead saw him leave both the agents as they were. He had no time to waste removing the cuff on his wrist and he did not want them left defenceless should any of the guards come back this way. Instead, he continued to train a gun on Knowles, tucking the other into the band of his jeans before retrieving his own weapon from the ground and turning to follow his team.

Knowles glared after the biker that had flattened them both so effortlessly and shook his head as he disappeared, moving to check on Bradley who looked to be coming around. Whoever he was, he had taken them down like they were complete amateurs.

..

As bullets tore through the night all around him Ivan finally made his way down to Cheese, using a ladder on the rear side of the ledge. The guards had opened fire on the cops that had surrounded the truck and now there was a war going on – and his downed friend was right in the middle of it. The only good that had come of the guards attack was that it had created a diversion for him to reach Cheese and get his wounded friend the hell out of the line of fire. The men in the tower were aiming out into the darkness for the moment and he was wasting no time in the reprieve. Staying low, he finally reached his friend's side and crouched down beside him.

"You took yer time," he was promptly informed.

He grinned at the hurting man. "Aye, ye broke some records gettin' doon, that's fir sure. Ah took the slower path."

He checked him over with a glance, seeing immediately that his leg was at a peculiar angle. "Where ye hurt?"

"Everyfuckinwhere." Cheese tried to sit up and as he did so, felt his leg scream in pain and groaned. "Fuck, my leg…"

"Come oan, we cannae stay here."

Ivan helped Cheese up and started to take his weight and pull him to his feet as he looked around, trying to see the best course back to the building. It was then that he saw Rizzo. _How the hell had he gotten outside?_

"We'll ah'll be fucked," he said, watching Rizzo standing before the bright lights of the truck looking like a stunned deer. "Rizzo ye daft bastard, get over here!"

Hearing the shout Rizzo turned and after a moment seemed to recognise them, even at the considerable distance he was away from them. One hand came up in a jerky wave of greeting and a sudden grin split his bemused face.

Cheese lifted his head a little and saw what Ivan was looking at. Their friend was still captured in the truck's

headlights. "He's been just standin' there since I landed."

"Rizzo!" Ivan yelled again, and to hell with caution. "Git doon ye fool!"

Rizzo heard the shouted instruction but instead of obeying he turned to the voice with a spreading grin. He was happy to have made some connection again with a human being after standing so long in isolated thought as he had been. He went so far as to wave again in a show of happiness at seeing his friend.

Ivan shot to his feet, sensing the outcome of Rizzo's actions. It couldn't go down like this. _No way._ But he hadn't taken two steps before the first bullet hit his friend square in the chest and sent him staggering back a step.

_"No!"_

Rizzo recovered and his eyes found Ivan again, but this time his smile wavered as he again took a tentative step forward, not at all sure this time. Ivan sprang forward, alarm and fear driving him to reach his still-wasted friend and get him to ground. Even as the second bullet tore into the perplexed body he kept running toward him, cursing himself for not being fast enough, cursing the fools who's shots were flying wild of their marks, cursing the son of a bitch bartender that had given Rizzo the fucked up drugs in the first place.

As the third bullet tore into Rizzo's stomach, pain had still not registered. But he was quickly learning that he could not move forward without being driven back. He stared in wonder at the sight of Ivan sprinting towards him. He didn't think he'd ever seen his friend move like that before. It was almost funny.

"They wanted me out here!" He yelled toward the madly approaching figure, his arm sweeping the air around him.

Ivan reached Rizzo and did not stop to chat. He bowled the man over, tackling him hard to the ground and pulling him by the shirt toward the door to the building. His blood-coated hands gripped the material hard, one working its way under an unresisting arm until he managed to haul him to the doorway, open the metal door and shove him inside.

Rizzo looked up at Ivan's terrified face and suddenly found it hard to breathe. "They put me out there," he informed him, his face already pale in the artificial lighting.

"Who?"

"The guards... just shoved me out the door. Why did they shove me out the door?"

Ivan shook his head, looking down and seeing the blood spilling around his friend's body to the grey, cold concrete beneath them. "Dinnae move," he told him hoarsely, his breathless voice filled with emotion. He held a hand to Rizzo's forehead, giving him a hard look that begged him to stay alive before he left to get Cheese.

He ducked his way back through the gunfire and reached his friend, wasting no time in hauling the battered body onto his shoulder and carrying him back to join Rizzo. As he reached the door the gunfire suddenly stopped, but he didn't pause to find out what that meant. He wondered where Bruce and Vin were. Did they need his help too? Now that he finally considered it, Vin was in no shape to be dodging bullets, but how could they have known it was going to turn into a world war out here? He couldn't believe what was happening.

Inside he lowered Cheese to the ground. Cheese took one look at Rizzo and made a strangled noise in his throat as Ivan let him go. They both looked at Rizzo's permanently glazed eyes staring at nothing and remained silent, trying to accept what they were seeing. After the longest time Ivan's face turned fierce and without a word he turned to the door, heading back out into the mayhem. He wasn't going to lose Bruce and Vin too.

**..**

Up ahead of Larabee's still concealed team the gunfire suddenly stopped in a temporary cease fire. The explosives team were still holed up in the back of the truck taking meagre shelter against the countless rounds of bullets that the guards had fired in their direction. The metal container was peppered with holes and dents where ricocheting bullets had hammered into the thick surface.

Next to Shole, Dixon gave a sudden triumphant grunt into the silence that had ensued. He'd finally managed to put the device back in one piece and was rewarded by the sight of the long anticipated green light blinking readily on the casing, indicating it was finally operational.

"Well thank fuck for that," Shole said, looking down at the control. "Let's burn these bastards then we can take out the other two clowns that dropped out of the tower." He'd already managed to take care of one of the bikers, the idiot had stood frozen in the truck's lights. He reached out and took the remote and as he did so stepped from his cover and moved forward, extending his arm out toward the truck.

"ATF! STOP RIGHT THERE!" came a loud shout from close by. _Too close by._

..

Chris and his team could not see the remote in the guard's extended hand, but they could make out his uniform in the low light.

Shole's men looked toward the sound of the shouted command and saw their leader raise his gun in response, waiting not a second longer to join him in turning their gunfire toward the agents that had come upon them from behind.

The fight was short and deadly. The ATF agents were ready for the guards to move out of their positions of cover and the second that they did they opened fire. Shole's team were cut down whilst the leader himself got off only one shot before he felt a bullet slam into his hand, dropping to the ground in the sudden and all-consuming agony he felt exploding over and over again as his nerves fired.

Seeing their leader fall under the onslaught caused a mixed reaction amongst the remaining guards. Some stayed to battle it out, but others retreated toward the building and to safety, only to find themselves surrounded by Thomas's men who had come up from the other side and if they made it further than that, they were pinned by Murphy's men up in the tower. The co-ordinated attack brought them down swiftly and effectively.

Only two guards remained outside to face the ATF team then, not including the incapacitated Shole as the noise of the firing sank into the muddied ground once more.

"We've got men coming up all around you, you've got nowhere to go! Throw down your weapons and move out slowly. Let us see your hands!" Buck called out after a nod from Chris who had not moved his gun from the spot he knew the guards were hidden behind.

As Shole remained on the ground, moaning through his pain, one of the remaining guards made a lethal decision and rose from his cover, gun firing. Chris, ready for the move, was the first to react and sent him back where he'd come from. The remaining guard, still crouched in the cover, looked down at his former friend's already dead body and quickly called out.

"I'm coming out!" He threw out his gun and stood with his hands in the air.

_There's always one_, Chris thought, not pleased at having to shoot the young kid that had raised his gun at them. He didn't have to tell Buck to get the surrendering guard's weapon, his old friend just moved automatically to take care of it. They'd worked together far too many times to have to discuss such obvious tasks. He then turned his attention to Shole, who was still huddled forward on the ground in pain.

"Put your hands up where I can see them," Chris ordered him before he spoke into his headset. "The guards are down, clear out of the truck!"

To their surprise, Shole complied, lifting himself up and sitting back on his heels. He clutched his hands together between his legs and they could see the blood covering them from the gunshot wound, and they could also see that he did not have a gun held in them.

"JD, Nathan, check the others out, get their weapons," Chris said, not moving his eyes from the guard before them. "Raise your hands where I can see them!" he ordered Shole, knowing it was a difficult request but knowing he had to make sure that every man would no longer be a threat. It was hard to make anything definite out in the small amount of light that they had and he wasn't about to take any chances.

Finally Shole moved, even if it was only his lips that curled up to reveal a grin that the agents could not see. Through his blood-slick fingers he felt over the plastic rectangle concealed in his hand until he felt the square button that he knew sat right beneath the green, blinking light.

"I'm not telling you again, put your hands up where I can see them," Chris said, taking a step forward and sensing something more than pain causing the man's hesitation. He was close enough then to finally see the man's grin and even as he responded to it by moving his gun to aim right at his head, he noticed his hands move. He was concealing something in them.

Shole's fingers pressed down a fraction more, finding the power to bend forward and press the plastic pad forward, which began to push the metal contact lever forward toward the waiting touch plate all concealed within the remote's small casing. Once the touch plate connected the sensor would activate inside the truck and it would physically switch over and detonate the web of explosives that were rigged throughout the roof. Only a fraction more and he would have his job completed. He had never failed on a job yet.

But there were two things the arrogant Shole had not accounted for. How could he know that the annoying biker that had assailed him with questions was as determined to stop him as he was to set the sky ablaze? And how could he know that the man standing right before him, ordering him to raise his hands, had a trigger finger so fast he was famous for it? So it was that in the next instant his grin was replaced by pain and shock and his perfect career had a permanent black mark as he fell back for the first and last time. The final order from his own brain to his fingers, demanding that they fulfil their duty and press down on the plastic piece, was disobeyed. One hot bullet slammed into his head at the exact moment that another shot its way into his heart before he fell back to the earth in shocking finality, the remote sliding from his lifeless fingers to rest peacefully in the mud.

The rest of the ATF team whirled in shock at the gunshots, not having seen what Shole was up to. They looked from Shole, to Chris and then finally to Vin, who had come up behind them all, discharged gun now down by his side.

Chris stepped forward and eyed the plastic remote that was lying in the mud, it's green light still blinking incessantly in the darkness. He felt no remorse at shooting the man, he had been about to send them all to hell. Device in hand he turned back around and lowered his own weapon, giving Vin a hard look through the dim light.

"Thought I told you to stay behind?" But he wasn't angry. Two bullets were better than one in stopping a madman cold.

"Wasn't sure I heard ya right, with m'head bleedin' an' all."

Not having expected a response Chris was shocked to see the grin light the teeth bared from Vin Tanners face as he tucked his gun back into the waist at the back of his jeans.

Right at that moment Thomas and his men appeared before them, dragging two of the escaped guards they had rounded up with them. They'd stopped them from getting back to the building. Seeing the agents approach Vin turned back to take cover rather than be forced to identify himself to them, but it was at that exact moment that the two agents he had just tangled with caught up with him as well. He thought fast and as always, turned the situation to his advantage. He could not have planned it better himself as they descended on him, taking no chances as they swiftly knocked him off his feet with a fist to his jaw, that he allowed. _Score one for authenticity of cover_, he thought glumly as he hit the ground hard.

"This time I'm ready for you," the irate agent Knowles said, moving forward to deliver a solid kick.

_OK the kick wasn't planned on. _He coughed with the loss of his breath and the pain through his side.

"That's enough!" Chris yelled sharply, stepping forward to stop the attack as he realised what was happening.

Knowles and Bradley glared at the Captain as he approached, both justifiably angry.

"He didn't hesitate to take us down back there," Bradley informed him, gesturing behind him.

Chris didn't waste his glare on the man as he moved toward Vin, hearing the harshly drawn breathing coming from the battered man's chest. Thomas gave him a nod as he continued on with his captured guards who were looking back at Vin with interest.

Vin got to his knees and after a noticeable pause got his feet under himself, hands wrapped around his torso and clearly in pain. He grinned though as the two agents stepped back from him, clearly wary of the reach of his boots. He held one arm tight to his stomach as he forced his breathing under control, wet mud mingling with the blood that coated one side of his face. The punch hadn't been particularly hard, but the kick had taken his breath away and jolted his ribs into a new, painful awareness. To top it off his head was pounding again and it was picking up its drumming rhythm with a vengeance. A headache was just what he didn't need, it inhibited him from focusing on what he had to do. He was near the end of his endurance and he knew it. He locked his stance and glared at Knowles and Bradley. Even knowing that he would have done the same thing in their position didn't stop him from being pissed that they had taken such cheap shots at him.

Knowles took his eyes from the biker and shifted them to the ATF Captain, seeing that there was no sense of urgency in the man. He exchanged a look with his partner before looking back at Vin, finally putting it together. With the guards gone he could speak freely.

"You're the UA," he said simply.

Vin raised a brow, then a grin twisted his lips. He had no need to carry on the act now that the guards had been taken away. A call came over the radio ordering the two agents to return to their team and help with the wounded near the truck. As they walked away Knowles turned back.

"At least I didn't get taken down by a biker." He gave him a small nod as he turned away.

Chris signalled for Nathan to see to Vin before he turned away to check in with Murphy and the rest of the teams, making sure that the area around the truck was evacuated and secured and that the wounded were being seen to as Buck, Josiah and JD made sure that there would be no surprises from the guards scattered on the ground around them. Sirens were heard now as local backup was raced in and medical help came in to tend to the wounded. The noise of a helicopter was heard circling in from above and Murphy's voice was heard over the communication demanding to know who the hell it was. There had been no aerial support organised and the last thing they wanted was the media getting in on the action.

"You look worse every time I see you," Nathan informed Vin, guiding him to sit on a wooden crate. He noted the harsh intake of breath through his battered ribs as the lean man sat down, keeping his favoured leg as straight as possible.

Vin didn't deny it, but he had more things to worry about as he fought the urge to bat the well-meaning man's hands away from the wound at his temple. He had to get back to the building and find Ivan and Cheese, not to mention Rizzo. _How was he going to tell them about Bruce?_

Chris felt his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket as he looked down at the top of Vin's head. Reading the display he saw that it was Ezra but answered too late to get the call. He dialled the missed number but there was no answer. Frowning he moved forward to look down at Vin.

"Why didn't you meet me as planned?" was the first of many questions he wanted answered. He didn't know how long they would have to trade information this time.

Vin lifted his head, his hair damp from the constant drizzle and falling into his eyes. "We came up through a

tunnel in the ground," he pointed in the direction he'd come in from. "There's an opening in the ground over that-away, just beyond the perimeter, it leads down to a network of tunnels that run through the ground and under the building. They stretch all the way across the street and come up through an undercover car park. That's how they move their shipments out from here undetected. It's not only stored here, it's _made_ here, right beneath our feet."

Seeing Chris's surprised face, he continued. "You're not gonna believe the shit they've got goin' on down there. I didn't see all of it, but there's a mobile lab down there and a full warehouse of goods ready to move out at any time."

Chris exchanged a look with Nathan even as Buck joined them, having heard what Vin had said. What Chris had been ready to write up as one big fuck-up was fast becoming the opportunity of their careers, if what Vin was saying was true. It was the bust they needed to take the heat off the department after Benning's setup, and more.

"That changes things," Chris said, already considering what action he needed to take.

Vin shied away as Nathan tried to get at the bullet wound still bandaged at his side. Chris noticed the way Vin held his arm tight around his side, even as he moved away from Nathan's helping hands.

"What else?" He asked, worried about time.

"This whole place is run by the club but it's a local operation. I don't think the president knows 'bout this back home, or else we all would'a known somethin' 'bout it. When we came in there was a guy, Bale was his name. He's in charge out here and he tee'ed us up with Shole." Vin nodded to the dead guard. "He was the head of security and in charge'a blowin' the truck."

"Where's Bale now?" Buck asked.

Vin shrugged. "He high-tailed it soon as we headed out." He looked at Chris. "The way they got this place set up, they can get everythin' outta the city in a heartbeat, so ya gotta get this movin'."

Chris studied Tanner's keen eyes. He'd gone through a lot to get that information to them and he deserved some reassurance that it would be handled. He nodded, "I'll see to it."

Vin looked back down with a sigh, satisfied that Larabee would get it done. "I had no idea things would go this far tonight. Once I saw the scale'a the operation, it was too late ta stop things." He looked up at Chris, who again nodded toward him, this time putting a solid hand on his shoulder and giving a squeeze.

"You did good," he was reassured. "And if what you say is true, then everything that happened here still won't make sense to the department," he said wryly, "but it'll be more than enough to justify the op and satisfy them. Not to mention it'd be nice to have some sort of pay-off for our time for a change."

"Why would they lead us here and risk us discovering their underground operation?" Josiah said thoughtfully as he walked up and joined them. He waited for Vin to look up in response to his voice. "Kid, you look like hell," he smiled.

Vin gave him a slight smile back, but it did not reach his eyes. "They consider what's underneath us impenetrable. I don't even know if I could find the way through ta the main area again an' I've just come from there. There's hidden panels all over the place. This ain't no backyard operation."

"So what now?" Buck asked.

"Now, we have to report in and get this bust done right," Chris said firmly. "I want full department backing on this before we move and we're going to need a lot more backup." He looked at Vin, knowing he was definitely not going to like his next order. "And I'm going to bring you in. You could use the break in the hospital."

Vin looked up in anger, pushing against Nathan's restraining hand to get unsteadily to his feet. "This ain't the time," he argued. "We lost a man tonight, if you pull me in now it's gonna look nothin' but suspicious."

Chris wasn't budging. "You're coming in now or I'm bringing you in for good, it's your decision. You can't keep going like this."

Vin was furious and took a step toward his Captain, his voice low as he instinctively looked around to make sure they were really alone. "You can't tell me my effort hasn't paid off. I've just given ya the haul'a the year - the key ta the club's whole operation here in Denver - and yer _still_ questionin' my place?"

Chris's eyes narrowed, but he could see that it was fatigue that was fuelling Vin's anger. "The only thing I'm

questioning is your health. You're not Superman, Tanner, sooner or later you're not going to get back up and it's not going to be on my shift that it happens. You're coming in."

The drizzle had become more of a light rain but both men were oblivious as they stared each other down for a long space of time. Finally Vin shook his head and whispered stubbornly.

"I can't do that."

Chris's brows shot up again and this time he reacted physically, shoving Vin backward to be caught in time by Nathan, who helped Vin sit back on the crate as he landed. Vin struggled to get back up and almost roared with frustration when he couldn't immediately find the strength to pull it off, only to be eased down by Nathan as Chris stepped in.

"Look at you, you can't even stand up." Chris didn't like what he was doing, but it was the only way the stubborn fool was going to realise his limitations. He glanced at Buck. "Cuff him. He'll ride with us to the hospital."

So caught up were they in their own private battle that the noise of movement behind them went unnoticed and before they could react a large, angry-looking biker came out from the darkness and stood before them, holding an automatic weapon before him.

"Back away from him!" Ivan yelled as he came upon the group of agents coming down on Vin. He'd picked his way through the compound until he'd heard raised voices and followed the sounds until he caught sight of the group of agents standing still amongst the chaos. It took a moment to realise that it was Vin who was fighting them and then the first words he had made out clearly had been to `Cuff him and bring him in.'

Chris exchanged a look with Nathan and nodded slightly to obey the biker's command. He looked at Vin then and was surprised to see a slight smile on the man's face. The son of a bitch was going to get his way after all. He narrowed his eyes and with one last warning look stepped back and turned toward the irate biker who was holding a gun on them.

Ivan took his first good look at Vin's battered face and nearly started firing. The bastards just couldn't help

themselves.

"Back the fuck away!" He ordered again, waving his gun for emphasis as he watched Vin get shakily to his feet. He wanted to gather whatever friends he still had alive and get the hell out of there. "You ok?" he asked Vin, who made his way to stand by his side.

Vin didn't look at Larabee again, knowing instinctively that his Captain was going to let him leave but that he was furious as hell about it. He couldn't stop Ivan taking him right then even if he wanted to, but I'm sure it wasn't making it any easier on his new Captain.

"Yeah," he answered. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Where's Bruce?" Ivan scanned the area, trying to account for the last of them.

Not wanting to spark Ivan's anger until they were away from his team, Vin shook his head as if bewildered. "We got separated. He was headin' t'ward the buildin'. I thought he mighta run inta ya `fore now."

Ivan frowned, but was taking it one step at a time. "Let's find him." He waved his gun again at the agents. "You boys stay as ye are," he warned and gave Vin a sideways look. The smaller man looked ready to fall down. He nodded with his head that Vin move off first, he would watch his back.

Chris watched with his team as Vin backed away with the biker and cursed softly but passionately. He was pissed off that he hadn't had the time to finish briefing his agent but more than that, he was pissed off that he'd managed to get his way. Again. He really didn't think he had enough left in him to carry on.

Just as the two bikers had left Riker and two of his men came upon the scene.

"Larabee, my team has secured the area. The truck has been isolated and all teams have moved back. They're taking Murphy out now, he's taken one in the shoulder but they think he'll be ok."

Chris turned to Riker. "Go back and see to Murphy. There's two bikers heading that way, you're to let them pass. I need your men clear," he whispered.

Riker hesitated a moment then followed the request, leading his men out to leave the ATF team to their business.

..

"Where did ye leave Bruce?" Ivan asked, but in another moment Vin heard him swear. "Sweet Jesus!"

Vin stumbled as Ivan stopped hard in his tracks. Damn it, he hadn't been thinking. He should have led Ivan away from Bruce but instead he'd let him run straight into him. Ivan sank down beside his friend's dead body and his face was so genuinely anguished that Vin had to look away. Finally, Ivan's grief-filled words became clear.

"Not you too… aw laddie... not you too…"

"What is it?" Vin asked, stepping out from behind Ivan and grabbing hold of a post in the ground for support. His vision had greyed but he managed to wrestle it back. What did Ivan mean '_not you too_'? Who else had bought it tonight?

Ivan looked up and when he did Vin saw that there were unchecked tears on the big man's face. He had a hard time getting the words out. "Rizzo… they got Rizzo."

Vin blinked. "But he was inside. He was…" he couldn't speak, had no idea what to say at that moment while he tried to take it all in. This wasn't like when Keg was killed. He had been hanging with these guys a long time back home, and he'd just spent their last days with them, joking around, watching them play their stupid pranks… He felt numb. He felt...

Ivan watched Vin sink to the ground and quickly moved to stop his fall. All he could think was he was about to lose yet another of his friends. The poor bastard had been feeling like hell before they'd even got out here and now he was faced with being beaten by the cops, _again_, on top of the loss of two of his brothers. He quickly turned him over and felt his cool, rain-slick neck for a pulse and was relieved to find one. Sighing, his

breath catching on something he wouldn't admit was a sob, he looked back at Bruce. He couldn't carry them both back, he'd have to leave his dead friend where he lay. He hoisted the lean man up and onto his shoulder and once again made his way toward the building, not knowing that there was an easier route through the hatch Vin and Bruce had used to get across the grounds.

His only plan was to get back to Cheese and then the three of them were going to get the hell out of here together - and _alive_. If he had it his way, they'd be heading all the way back to Texas and never leave the place again. He'd lost two brothers tonight, he wasn't going to lose another one. Denver had brought them nothing but loss.

..

Chris stood by Murphy's stretcher as they prepared to load him into the waiting ambulance.

"I wish I could be here for this," Murphy said to him now with a smile. He wasn't in pain now that they had given him a shot in the arm. "This is gonna be somethin'. It's the break we've been looking for."

Chris squeezed the man's good arm and watched as they loaded him inside. The call had just come in giving the go-ahead to proceed with the storming of the compound and SWAT teams were on their way for added support. According to Vin's information they weren't expecting a raid downstairs but just in case he had men sealing off all routes from the surrounding areas and looking for the entry across the road that Vin had told them about, that they would never have thought to look for otherwise. They had located the hatch leading into the tunnels just where they'd been told it would be but were waiting for full back up before they moved in.

Now he just prayed Vin's information was good. With all that had happened that night, so far they had nothing solid to take home. His phone rang again and he hoped it was Ezra calling back.

"Larabee its Martin. They're moving the truck."

"Keep your distance, but let's see where they take it."

Chris hung up and watched the flurry of activity all around him, not wasting any more thought on the operation that was taking place across town to secure what they had thought was the real shipment. That was before they had known what lay beneath the surface, literally. Flashing lights from vehicles now illuminated the teams all gathering together, ready to take action.

_With this amount of backup, Tanner, you better be right,_ he silently prayed.

Buck and JD approached then, arguing about something he couldn't hear and he wasn't concerned until he noticed that JD still had the detonator in his hand.

"JD," he said with quiet authority. "Didn't I tell you to get that to the explosives team?"

JD looked up at Chris then down at the device in his hand. "Buck distracted me Captain, I was just heading there now." He moved off.

Buck grinned at that, he had really started taking a liking to the annoying kid, green as he was. He stuck a leg out to trip up the unsuspecting agent as he left them.

Chris watched the men before him with morbid fascination. A painfully slow and horrifying scene was unfolding right before his eyes. As Buck stuck out his boot, JD's dragging feet caught it easily, his legs becoming confused and entangled as they stopped walking ahead. There was no time to react. Once JD's feet had stopped, his upper body took over and his splaying arms led the charge to the waiting ground.

Buck realised he'd gone too far when JD failed to correct his step and went down right into the big puddle he'd been aiming for, but he chuckled anyway even as he lunged to try and stop his fall. It was when the younger man finally came to a halt, his arms spread out on either side of him in the water, that he noticed the green blinking light that was innocently signalling it's function amongst the brown earth.

As Chris, Buck and JD's eyes all found the light they could only watch with wonder as it suddenly blinked red – just the once… and then the world shook.


	22. The Long Way Home

**Part 22. The Long Way Home**

"They're here."

Billy looked up at Jake, knowing who he was talking about. "Bring him in." Everything had gone wrong tonight. Eddie had somehow escaped their net and was now unaccounted for and he had just been told that the guards had fallen under the attack of the cops at the facility. The only upside to the situation was that the cops would never find out about their underground operation and he had instructed his men waiting across town to move their haul asap while the heat was all focused on the dummy shipment. But now he had something else to deal with.

The door opened and his boys dragged in two defiant, roughed-up men. Billy moved around his desk, happy to have a focus for his frustrations in light of everything that wasn't going his way. He looked Mitri Vlahov over first, seeing the anger in the proud man's eyes, but sensing the fear too. Then he turned to the second man, a question in his eyes, which one of the guards promptly answered.

"We found him at Mitri's house."

"Is that so... were you in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or are you better friends with Mitri than I hope you are."

Ezra said nothing, keeping his face blank as he looked back at the club president. It had been a mistake defying Chris's orders and going to Vlahov, but he'd known that the man was in grave danger and considered him to be a more valuable asset alive than dead. He just hoped now that he lived to regret his rash decision to disobey Larabee, again. This time, he knew his boss wasn't going to let it slide, his position with the ATF was over.

"Well, I hope he didn't promise you a long career in the nightclub business. Find Sugar," he ordered Jake. He knew that if Eddie spoke to anyone, it would be Sugar. The key to taking down Eddie and fulfilling his grand plan of becoming president himself could well lie in the man they called Sugar-Ray and the man had only one vice that he knew of, although he knew the man would never admit to it. Turner. He wondered if Sugar knew about Turner's past with the marines, perhaps that's why he always kept the kid close.

**..**

By the time the rumble of the blast had echoed out through the city and metal shavings had stopped littering the ground, long minutes had gone by. Yet even though the flaming debris had stopped falling around them Chris Larabee still felt no compulsion to move from where he lay on the ground, face down to avoid injury. It was not so much that the ATF leader - commander of men and former special forces soldier – _couldn't_ get up, for aside from a little unexpected tanning from the blast, he was physically unharmed. It was more the fact that if he _did_ move, it would only be to start more violence - and he was sure that wasn't a good thing.

Seeing his old friend not moving Buck got up first, dusting himself off and staring with awe toward the flaming wreck of the truck as the place roared back to life with a flurry of running agents. He glanced at Chris again, Chris who was too still, and after a moment's pause, took a conscious step back toward the truck, knowing suddenly and without a doubt that the flaming wreck represented the lesser evil.

JD, poor soul, had his mouth running before his body could catch up.

"Jesus Buck, look what you did!"

Buck whirled. "What _I_ did?! Kid you got about as much grace as a hippo on land. You nearly killed us all! What if the area hadn't been evacuated!"

Chris decided that he couldn't hold himself back forever and finally moved.

To JD's eyes, his Captain rose off the ground like the terminator in the third act, after Sarah Conner had well and truly crushed it's legs out from under it and it _still_ kept coming at her. He had a look about him that defied the natural boundaries of anger. He was, quite simply, terrifying.

Chris's eyes were indeed blazing lasers of raw fury. So far, only Murphy knew what had happened, but it wouldn't take long. The boys in the department would work it out and then there would be hell to pay. Every time someone thought about their team it would be to remember this event. Down the long corridors of the building, whispers would emerge from hands held to smirking lips, laughing about how Larabee's boys had managed to stop a truck being blown up, _only to blow it up themselves._

Just then, Captain Thomas appeared beside them, taking in the stand off between the three men and pausing a moment, before moving off to see if anyone needed help. He had seen what had happened and wanted to get in first.

"You ATF boys bring the steaks too, or do you just like to get the fire started?"

Buck grimaced, for the first time sorry about what he had done. They were a new team and this was going to stick. He looked down, avoiding Chris's eyes; Chris who had been shooting for professional, respectable, as a label for his team and now they were going to be renowned for something way off the target. And it was his fault.

So when he did finally look back up and saw that his friend's hand was climbing up toward his holster Buck moved, grabbing JD and dragging him with him as an afterthought – and he kept moving until he was well out of Chris's line of fire, which was saying something given the guys skill with a gun.

..

Ivan had managed to get Vin inside the building only minutes before the truck blew. Luckily, they were safe inside the massively thick, concrete walls. Vin had come around again when he had placed him down beside Cheese, which was a good thing because he didn't think he could carry them both. It was then that Vin noticed Rizzo and closed his eyes at the sight of his dead eyes still staring at the ceiling. He felt Ivan place a hand on his shoulder and then a moment later the big man was making noises of such anguish and shock that Vin's hand went for his gun before he could think about it.

"What-"

"No! God _no_!"

He followed Ivan's gaze back to the ground and to Cheese and then quickly realised the problem. There wasn't an inch of the man that wasn't riddled with bullet holes and blood. Unable to stop himself he looked at Cheese's face and saw that it, too, had not escaped the bullets. His remaining eye was still open and Vin could see that his expression was devoid of any emotion. For some reason, he expected there to be a protest on the fair-skinned face, as if his eye should have captured his last moments as some supposed they do, but there was nothing there to tell them the tale or his gruesome exit.

"Ivan," he said slowly, his voice cracking as he watched his friend bend down to shake Cheese. He waited a moment and when the man didn't answer he spoke again. " Ivan..."

Ivan looked up at the emotion in Vin's tone, but he could only shake his head, at a loss as to what to say to the heartbroken man. And then he could only close his eyes to the sight of the big man gathering Cheese's lifeless body and hugging him close to his chest, pausing for a moment as his anguish gathered itself for release.

Vin fixed his eyes on the disturbing angle of Cheese's leg, uncomfortable with the raw emotion pouring out of Ivan and yet more uncomfortable still with his own grief. Yet he was too adept at self-preservation to sit idle in the face of such a tragedy. He straightened up as best he could.

"We have to go," he said suddenly, new resolve in his tone. He knew how hard it would be for Ivan to leave Cheese behind but they had to move on or their fates would be no better. He had not fully processed the deaths of the three men but his survival instinct was now kicking in harder than ever and he rode with it, needing to focus on getting the hell out of there before someone aimed more bullets their way.

"He wis alive... When ah left, he wis alive... Who would..."

Vin knew the successive levels of reaction that death brings all too well, but he also knew they simply didn't have time to let Ivan's emotions run their course.

"Who did this?" Ivan whispered, looking at Vin in despair. "He wisnae like this when ah left im."

Vin looked at Ivan's now blood soaked shirt, shaking his head silently. The cops hadn't entered the building, so the bullet had to have come from someone on the inside. Ivan's face was gathering fury, his thoughts obviously on the same track as Vin's and Vin realised he wouldn't have to hurry Ivan to the next stage of grief after all, he'd flown through denial all by himself and would soon be a raging torrent of anger, looking for someone to take his vengeance out on. Suddenly the man was on his feet, pulling him from the ground.

"I want some fuckin' answers."

Vin had to work hard to follow Ivan's determined steps, but at least they were on the move. He couldn't think about Bruce, or Rizzo, or poor undeserving Cheese, he just had to keep moving, but as much as he denied the thoughts, images of the men still plagued his vision.

They headed back down the long tunnel they had entered through earlier, coming back to the hub of activity once more and stopping to get their bearings. As he looked around carefully, Vin imagined the mass panic that would ensue once Larabee got the teams co-ordinated to seize the place. He pictured the place overrun with agents and men all scrambling to get away. Then he noticed what he had been looking for – the security centre up against the rear wall.

With the resolve of a man long used to letting his determination guide him he let his arm drop from his battered ribs and pushed the pounding ache in his head aside, moving forward with a definite limp toward his new target. He headed toward the two men manning the bank of security monitors, wanting to know how far their view extended outside the building and what they had seen.

"_Jesus_!" One of the men, wearing a tattered cowboy-style hat that looked totally out of place, exclaimed, looking at them as they approached. "What the hell's going on out there?!" He took in Vin's battered face and noticed the heavy limp in his walk, the blood coating the other massive biker's hands and clothes.

Vin heard the man in the ugly hat but did not stop until he'd moved around behind the desk, looking at the black and white screens. They were all showing the interior of the building, save for one monitor, which flicked around the perimeter, the agents all out of range of its sights for the moment.

Relieved that no-one could see the agents gathering together and hence had not seen him talking with them he looked up at the guards, effecting an air of anger. "So much fer yer security team."

Ivan looked at Vin, realising he was looking for someone to take his anger out on too. But then he himself realised how much the guards were to blame. They had been in charge of the operation and they had failed to see to their safety. Rizzo's words came back to him. _'They shoved me out there.'_

But Vin had a higher agenda than looking for someone to blame. Although he wanted to know who had taken out Cheese, he needed to give Larabee and the men that were sent in as much advantage as he could. Taking away the monitors would certainly help get them inside.

"Who's in charge?!" he demanded, resting a hand on one of the screens and leaning forward threateningly.

The guards looked unsure as they eyed each other.

"He's gone for the night," the cowboy spoke to the angry man. The glistening blood that coated his face gave him a dangerous look. That combined with the sight of the massive biker next to him, completely covered in blood, scared the life out of him.

"We couldn't know they'd bring that many men to take one shipment," the other spoke defensively.

Ivan stepped closer to the defiant man. "It's yer fuckin' job tae know! I wanna know who kilt mah friend back thair."

Both men looked at each other in confusion. "We haven't moved from here all night."

Vin could see they were telling the truth, but Ivan lunged for the first one he could get his hands on. "You little

bastard!"

Vin stepped in, trying to stop Ivan from choking the man dead on the spot. "Ivan wait. _Wait_!"

It took precious seconds to pry Ivan's fingers loose and he finally stepped an inch back from the kid's face.

"What?" he growled, not looking at Vin.

Vin spoke to the two guards. "How do ya record this picture?" He tapped the screen of the monitor that was flashing a distant image of Cheese every ten seconds or so.

"It's digital..."

"Good. I want the footage from this camera here. Make me a copy of the last hour."

"I'll need -"

"_Now_," Vin's eyes brooked no argument.

The man got up and literally ran from the room, coming back a minute later and shaking his head. "We're out of discs."

Vin nodded to the mp3 player the other guard had hanging from a cord at his neck, seeing the shiny sticker on the casing that said '1.5GB'. "That'll do the job."

All eyes fell to the small device and the guard, realising Vin intended to take his player, looked back up in protest.

"No way man!"

Before Vin could speak Ivan reached forward, not fully understanding why Vin wanted the thing or what it did, but grabbing it with one hand and ripping the cord from the man's neck in one harsh tug. He handed it to the other guard and Vin nodded.

"Hurry up."

With an apologetic look to his friend the man turned and began clicking away at the keyboard as he inserted the device into the USB port at the front of the PC. After a moment Vin saw a progress bar moving across the screen, showing a file being copied.

Ivan was saying nothing, but was impressed that Vin was thinking so clearly and taking action. He would not have thought to check the monitors the way he had to see how Cheese had been killed and even if he had, he wouldn't have a clue how to get the information out of them.

Finally Vin was handed the player and he tucked it into the coin pocket of his jeans as he calmly told the men to move back away from the desk, which they did with a wary look to each other.

"What are you going to -"

Vin took a baton that was clipped to one of the men's belts as he shoved him further back and turned to the monitors, using it to smash the first bank of screens and the computers and external drives that were all sitting just under them. Sparks flew in all directions as the glass shattered and the three men watching all stepped back in surprise. He didn't stop until he had smashed every piece of equipment that was there. All he could hope for was that the data wasn't being sent to a remote location, but at least he hand blinded them.

Finally, breathless from the effort it had taken him, he threw the baton to the ground and pointed a finger at one of the guard's, staring into his wide eyes.

"Now get off yer fuckin' lazy asses once in a while an' use yer own eyes instead'a relyin' on these useless things!" he spat pointing at the smoking, spattering monitors. The smell of wiring and electricity gone awry filled the air. For good measure he yanked the ugly hat off the cowboy and stuck it through the hole he'd made in one of the monitors. "Get out there and see what you can do to clean up!" He shouted at the men, who both took off without another glance back.

Ivan watched Vin get himself under control, fascinated by this unpredictable side to the man. He'd seen what Vin could do in a ring many a time but he'd always considered him one of the more controlled people that he knew.

Mission accomplished, Vin moved on, Ivan behind him but turning to watch the bewildered guards disappear

towards the nearest exit. They could hear the now hatless guard as he spoke to the other.

"Fuckin' crazy bikers."

A wry look came over Ivan's face as he turned back to study Vin as he followed him. The crazy Texan was still fuming.

"Ye finished?" he asked.

Vin walked on, his profile serious. "I ain't even started yet," he replied without taking his eyes off the tunnel ahead. To himself, he allowed the smallest of satisfied smiles. There's a head start for ya, Larabee. Now get in here and get these fuckers while they can't see ya comin'.

..

It took them a long time to reach their bikes once they managed to find the tunnel leading back under the road and by the time they got there Vin was almost dead on his feet. He'd used the last of his energy taking out the monitors and now he felt like he was going to keel over and not be able to get back up. He was still avoiding thinking about the dead men he'd left behind, but he knew it would catch up with him soon enough. The important thing was to be alive long enough to have time to reflect on the night.

Ivan hadn't said a word since they'd entered the tunnel, had just put an arm under Vins' and carried as much of his weight as he could to help him avoid his injured knee. As he helped Vin get on his bike Ivan stopped and his face was grim as he looked down at him. His brow was heavy with thought as he tried to put his words together, but Vin waved him off.

"We gotta get outta here. I've got an idea where we can look at this footage."

Ivan looked at him a moment more and then nodded, looking at the other bikes now sitting abandoned.

"We gotta go," Vin prodded. He knew there was nothing they could do about the bikes and by the time the night was over, they would be impounded. His sole mission at that point was to get himself and Ivan the hell out of there. Clearly someone wanted them all dead and he wasn't about to let them succeed.

Ivan swallowed the thick wad of grief that sat in his throat and finally got on his bike. For once, she started without a whisper of protest.

..

By the time Vin was well on the road back towards the complex, his team had put into action a plan to storm the warehouse from three different points. Amidst the chaos of the bomb detonation all teams had checked in, awaiting the backup of the SWAT teams and Chris had been thankful that no-one had been hurt in the blast. He was also happy to hear that despite the gunshot wounds the explosives team had taken, they were all going to make it. As the co-ordinator of the operation, he could only be thankful for that. Getting men killed under your command was not something anyone wanted to achieve, no matter the overall success of the mission.

Two teams entered through the hatch Vin had informed them of earlier, while another had climbed to the observation tower and entered down the stairwell. Team Seven - the five that were present - had joined the SWAT team and entered through the underground car park via the building across the road. There they had discovered the three abandoned Harley's of Rizzo, Bruce and Cheese.

"Are any of these Vins?" JD asked, in awe of the bikes in a line before him. He touched the tank of Bruce's bike reverently, running his hands back towards the saddlebags.

"No, his was different," Buck said, having followed Vin the night after the DV8 incident. He didn't know much about bikes, but Vin's had been very distinct and he'd had time to look at it as it rode ahead of him in the street lights.

"How cool are these?" JD said softly to Buck, thinking how much he'd love to ride one.

"Pretty cool, if you like catchin' bugs with your teeth," Buck said, giving JD a shove to keep moving forward.

They'd gone through a long tunnel and finally met with the first show of resistance just as reports of other encounters with guards began to come in but overall, it did not prove difficult to take control of the complex and the all clear was given at only 20 minutes after first entry. Clearly, the guards that were left had never expected anyone to make their way underground to discover what was going on, let alone just when they had lost most of their security force and their numbers were too low to defend against attack.

Getting through the hidden panel that led to the main area had been a problem until Josiah had called for the

explosives team to help blow through the concrete. From there they had discovered a workplace in chaos.

Uniformed men had decided to run, rather than fight, but none the less there were shots exchanged and several guards fell under the returned fire.

And then finally, as the guards and various workers were taken away, the realisation of what they had discovered began to filter through to every agent present that morning. As crate after crate was opened and accounted for, long into the early hours of dawn, government agents poured with satisfaction through a massive assortment of weapons and drugs all ready and packaged for distribution to the end market. This was the haul of a lifetime and whilst unofficial at that point, none had doubts it would be the biggest bust in Denver's history. And suddenly, the stigma that had befallen the ATF team only an hour earlier in response to the explosion of the truck was overshadowed by the success of an operation that was a major win for the law by anyone's measure. For that, Buck was eternally grateful, for he probably would have had to leave the state otherwise.

..

Around the time that Chris Larabee gave the order for his team to head home, leaving the DEA to oversee the wrap up of the operation, Sugar was grimly eyeing Billy's office door as he knocked and a moment later was bid by Billy himself to enter from within.

As he pushed the thick wooden door open he didn't expect an arm to suddenly place itself right beside his head and he stopped as he turned to find Jake right behind him, assisting him to enter with a smile that he did not like.

"Goin' my way?" Jake asked him politely.

"Seems that way," Sugar answered, feeling something decidedly unfriendly coming from Jake's too-smug smile.

"I was just upstairs lookin' for you..."

Sugar frowned at that. Had Jake seen him in Suzy's room?

"And now you've found me." They held each others narrowed eyes for a heartbeat longer before Jake pressed his weight onto the door.

"Lucky for me. Let's share the joy with Billy."

Sugars scowl lingered as Jake pushed the door open and he was forced to enter, with Jake right behind him. They found Billy in a state of rage, holding his phone in his hand as a voice relayed obviously distressing news to him.

As he listened to Jake, not knowing what the conversation was about, Sugar took in the two beaten men bound to chairs against the rear wall of the large office. "What's this about?" he asked Jake who merely grinned.

"Loyalty."

Sugar looked the two men over more closely with little concern. This part of the club had long ceased to bother him. However, it was for Eddie that he 'enforced' the clubs rules, not Billy. He wasn't about to exact punishment on men just because Billy wanted him to, his job was to watch out for the code of the club, not serve as Billy's personal henchman. He would have to have good reason for him to carry out his work on them. He could see the blood and bruises on their faces. The older, darker man did not look his way, but the younger man was staring back at him intently, his eyes sharp and clear. Then he was distracted from further thought by Billy's suddenly enraged voice.

"There's no possible way that could happen! God damn you to hell Bale, if you've lost everything then your life isn't going to be worth shit! You told me your men could handle it - no, you fucking _guaranteed_ it! If they've gone ahead and done what you _guaranteed_ would never happen then you're going to pay for this with your own flesh, you hear me?! What about my man, did he make it out?"

Listening, Ezra could well imagine the man on the other end of the line blanching at that threat. He had had no choice but to sit in the chair to which he was tied, and listen as the crazy President of the bikers had become more and more enraged. He was not sure of the details of what had happened or what exactly had been breached and lost, but from where he sat, which wasn't the most comfortable of places, it sounded like a victory for his team. He thought then of how pissed Larabee was going to be when he found out what he'd done. He had never imagined he would be caught like this and now could only hope he found a way out of the situation. Facing Larabee's wrath right then, however, seemed preferable to being where he was.

"I'll be in touch," Billy said after listening to whatever Bale had had to say in response. He slammed the phone down and for a long minute he merely stood there, staring at nothing. It was then that Ezra realised there was something else in his face besides fury. _Fear_. Fear that his world was starting to fall apart. And a scared man was a dangerous one, that was something he knew beyond doubt.

Sugar stood near the doorway until Jake moved, heading closer to Billy once his knuckles had lost their white gleam. Even Jake knew, however, not to ask Billy what was up until he was ready to let them know.

"It's gone to hell," the president started, shaking his head in disbelief as he spoke to his second in command. "Bale says they've gone through everything, they've taken down the whole operation..." his voice was deceptively low as he looked at Jake, seeking answers, seeking control. "How could they have found it? I can't even find it when I go there - _and I know it's there!_" He took what seemed to be a calming breath - and then snapped, again. _"HOW THE FUCK DID THEY FIND IT?!"_

Sugar blinked in the aftermath of Billy's roar and this smallest of actions somehow triggered Billy to remember he was in the room. He turned sharply and pointed a finger at him in accusation. "Where the hell have you been?"

Sugar frowned, clearly startled by the change in topic, but his voice remained calm, which he knew was important when dealing with such a volatile man. "Not talking to the cops if that's what you're about to accuse me of. I don't even know what the hell this place is you're talking about." And he didn't, although he knew he should if Billy had been honest in telling the rest of the chapters about his goings on, but this wasn't the time to go down that path. "Why, what's happened?"

Billy swore, moving around the room now, thinking, worrying.

"Is Turner back yet?" He asked Jake, and not for the first time.

"No."

Sugar's eyes narrowed and Ezra, too, paid particular attention.

"Back from where?"

But Billy ignored him, speaking to Jake. "He should be back by now. Send some riders out to see if he got into trouble on the way."

"Alright." Jake turned and stuck his head out the door to relay the order before returning.

"What did you send him into?" Sugar asked now, his anger rising. He hadn't known anything about Turner going anywhere.

"Relax, you can ask him himself when he gets here," Billy said, not trying to placate but rather provoke Sugar with his ambiguous response. He didn't blame Turner for what had happened, they had underestimated the scale of force the Fed's would bring, and severely underestimated their own strength. Turner was lucky to have made it out at all. But at least he'd managed to succeed in driving him back alone. Now he would have no-one, and he would want their help to get revenge, just as they'd planned. Not only that, he was going to use him to make sure Sugar came on board in his effort to shake Eddie out of hiding.

The phone rang into a tense silence and Billy picked it up, wanting any form of good news, but that wasn't to be. The other men in the room watched on in silence as the club leader put a hand to his face, covering his eyes a moment as he struggled to deal with whatever the latest development was. After a tense minute he finally spoke, his words a soft whisper. "It's not your fault, it should have been moved days ago. Get Bale in here. _Now_."

Only Bale had the hard proof that Billy was behind the operation. He would need to be silenced. Messy, that's what this was. Things were starting to get away from him, but he was in no rush to admit that.

Jake waited as Billy hung up and finally looked up at him, tapping an unlit cigarette on the desk.

"They seized the truck."

Jakes eyebrows shot up. "How did they find it?"

Billy just shook his head, but he got up, coming around his desk and focusing on the two men in the chairs. He went first to Mitri and raised his bloodied chin up until their eyes met. He studied him for a moment in concentration.

"What do you know about the warehouse? Who did you talk to?" As far as he'd known, Vlahov had only known that it was a transfer point for their trucks, but perhaps he had found out more than he'd thought. Perhaps he had told the cops where to find their operation.

"I told them nothing," Mitri said, anger and frustration showing in his face. He had known they would come after him, he just hadn't expected it to happen before he'd had a chance to get away and Ezra had been caught right along with him when the man had come to warn him he was in trouble.

Billy dropped his hand and took a step back, nodding toward Sugar. "We'll see soon enough what you did or didn't know." He moved to stand before Ezra and the beaten man looked up into calculating, dark eyes.

"This is Sugar. Once you are properly introduced he will leave a permanent impression on you, that I can

guarantee."

Ezra looked at the massive man again, then back at Billy, his expression reflecting an almost bored air of

indifference, although inside his bravado ended. He was in real trouble here and the only hope he had now of getting out of this alive most likely lay with Tanner getting back in one piece himself.

Seeing his threat had little effect Billy smirked, he knew that expression would change soon enough.

"I want to know how you found out and I want to know how the fuck the cops knew how to get under my facility..."

There was a knock at the door and Jake opened it to reveal one of the guards outside.

"What?" he said bluntly.

"Turner's just come through the first checkpoint out of the city."

"Alone?"

"No."

Billy swore. Again Bale had failed. "How many?"

"Just the Scottish guy."

Billy's face was grim. "He'll have to pass the roadhouse."

Jakes eyes narrowed as he followed the line of thinking, then he got it. "Royal."

Billy gave a short nod and Jake smiled, going for the phone.

Ezra watched all of this going down with increasing alarm. The president was watching what he said and did in front of his own men who entered the room, but was not concerned about him or Mitri. He knew what that meant, but what he didn't know for once in his life, was how he was going to get himself out of the very bad situation.

Sugar's scowl turned on Billy but the man's own face was unreadable. He didn't know what the hell was going on and it was pissing him off to no end.

"You plannin' on fillin' me in? What's going on with Vin?"

"Relax. He'll be here soon enough, you can ask him yourself."

Sugar's scowl only deepened.


	23. One Less Loose End

Part 23. One Less Loose End

It was an hour after they had entered the building that the leader of the SWAT team, Colin Theeman, called Chris over to where he stood, looking over a bank of destroyed security monitors along a wall. The ATF leader was feeling more relaxed by that point, knowing that every moment of stress and planning was paying off all around him.

"Captain Larabee, the information your insider gave you was right on the money..."

Chris gave a slight nod, looking at the destroyed screens

"And it looks like this might be reason they didn't see us coming sooner."

Chris moved around next to the SWAT agent and saw the full extent of the damage. Suddenly a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the first in a long while. Carefully tugging the remnants of a battered cowboy hat from the depths of one of the broken screens he shook his head as he studied it. Tanner. He had no doubt that it was his new agent that had stopped the guards from becoming aware of their attack until it was too late.

"The ATF don't mess around," he said to the team leader with a wink, just as his phone rang.

"Larabee."

"Larabee, Josh here." There was a hint of humour in his voice as he said, "Heard I missed a good barbecue..."

Chris ignored him, he knew he'd have plenty of time to think up snappy comebacks in the next days, if not decades, ahead.

"What's happening out there?"

"We had to move in, we had no choice. They got nervous and tried to move."

Chris respected that if Josh had moved in it had been with good cause. "And?"

He could practically here the beaming smile through the phone. "I don't know what you guys are sitting on out there, but it's like Christmas-fucking-day from where I'm standing."

Chris's own face broke into a grin. He was disappointed that they couldn't trace the truck back to the club, but their effort would be well rewarded. What a night this had been. If Tanner didn't receive a medal for all this, he'd buy one and pin it on him himself.

Buck approached him as he was putting his cell phone away.

"Well?" he asked shortly, still not willing to give Buck an inch after the stunt he'd pulled with JD and the truck.

"Bad news, Mitri's estate has been breached. Looks like there was a scuffle..." he paused, knowing that Chris was going to be truly angry. For a moment he felt sorry for the southerner. If the man got out of whatever trouble he was in, he was going to have to face one hell of a pissed off Larabee.

"And?" Chris said with little patience.

"And, they found Ezra's car parked up the street..."

"Son of a bitch!"

When an officer tapped Buck on the shoulder to get his attention he was happy for the intrusion. He could still hear Chris cursing as he turned away.

..

Nettie Wells heard the roar of incoming bikes long before the tap came at her door. Her hand was on her gun before the sound of the engines had died away. With her other hand she turned her alarm clock toward her and saw that it was 3am. Given that whoever it was was bothering to knock, she knew it wasn't likely thieves.

She went to her door and opened it slowly, leaving the lights off as she pulled on her robe and headed through the house, heading for the door that led through to the diner. She'd been living there so long she knew the way in the dark, which was good because right then she had absolutely no light to guide her.

Moving around the deserted kitchen she reached her security monitor and waited a moment, hearing another knock as she watched the image flicker from the side of the building to the front entrance. It took her a moment to study the lone figure at her door but after a long moment she recognised the long hair, if nothing else, that gave away the fact that the man leaning heavily on her doorstep was the very man that had sent Guy Royal packing; Vin.

For his part, Vin was doing all he could to stay upright, hoping against hope that the old woman was home and that she had meant what she'd said when she had told him to come to her if he needed anything. He'd never thought he'd be taking her up on the offer, but it was the only place he could think of to go to on the way back to the club. He motioned for Sugar to move forward into the light so she wouldn't feel threatened as he saw a shadow approaching the door and waited, relieved when her voice called out.

"You alone?"

"No ma'am. Just got a friend with me."

A moment later there was the sound of the door being unlocked and he looked down to the wisened face peering up at him in the dim light.

"Well ain't you a sight..." was all she said as she ushered him in out of the cold. She gave Ivan a once over before turning her back on them both. "Follow me."

They followed her through the diner, Vin limping even worse now that his leg had stiffened on the ride. He was surprised when she didn't stop, but led him straight through the diner kitchen and on through a door that led into a small room. She kept moving until she reached a surprisingly large, yet homely, kitchen and turned on the light over the big wooden table. It was a big table for one woman, he thought, but the room was warm and inviting, the tones of the natural woods blending with the gleam of copper pans that hung over the large stove. Before he realised it she was boiling water and making coffee, coming back over to him with a small medical kit while the kettle hummed on the stove and guiding him down into one of the comfortable wooden chairs.

"You keep running into trouble like this son and you're not going to make it out of this town alive."

Vin didn't reply, he was too cold and weary to deny it.

"I can patch you up as best I can, but that bullet's cut close," she nodded at the graze across his temple. "You're damn lucky."

He didn't bother to ask how she knew it was a bullet wound, he'd bet she'd seen her share of action through her long life. He didn't have time to mince words. "I need your help."

She glanced at his intense blue eyes a moment before leaning forward to start cleaning up the blood at his temple.

"I can see that."

He leaned back away from her, dodging her well meaning hand. "No..." he used as few words as he could, growing more and more tired by the second. The warmth of the room was pulling him towards wanting to rest. "We ain't here fer yer doctorin'... do ya have a computer?"

She frowned at that. "My niece has one. Why?"

Vin glanced at Sugar who was uncharacteristically quiet. In fact, Vin thought he looked like he was in a degree of shock. He stood and stretched, digging his hand into the tight coin pocked of his jeans and pulling out the MP3 player, showing it to her.

"I need to see what's on this."

Nettie looked at the silver device, having no idea what it was, then back to the intense eyes that showed her

for a moment just how weary and desperate the man was. Whatever had happened was his business, but she knew he wouldn't have come to her lightly. She owed him, but that wasn't the only reason she decided to help him. There was something about him that brought out the maternal in her and she thought he could do with a little mothering, even if he would never admit that to himself. First things first though, if he wanted her help, he had to take it as she saw willing to give it.

"You can play with that thing in a minute, first I'm going to make sure you don't pass out at my table lookin' the way you do and scarin' the hell out of my niece when she wakes up."

Vin began to protest but Ivan finally spoke, although glancing at him again Vin could see the man's eyes were dull, as if they had lost the spark of life.

"Listen to her lad. Ye need help."

Vin frowned as Nettie held a firm hand to his head and resumed dabbing at the wound with determined motions, biting back his arguments as he gave in to her ministration for the moment.

Nettie smiled despite the situation. She could almost feel the tension in Vin's jaw as he bit back his impatience.

"That guy cause ya any more trouble?" Vin asked, partly to try and diffuse his own impatience.

"Not yet." _But he will._

"_Ow."_

She avoided his accusing glare for stinging him with the cream she had applied to the cleaned wound. "You could use a stitch or two here."

"It'll mend," he said a little gruffly.

"You know, _you_ came to _me_ for help."

He had the manners to look down at her admonishment.

"Looks like you got a world'a trouble waitin' for ya out there, so you may as well relax some while you're here. You wanna unload some'a that cloud that's hangin' over that handsome head of yours, I got big shoulders for sharin' the load..."

Vin rose a brow at her tiny frame sceptically and she silently dared him to comment. He eyed her carefully neutral face, knowing she was sincere and without realising it he let out a breath, knowing he owed her some sort of explanation.

She prodded him along. "This got somethin' ta do with the rest of those friends of yours..?"

Ivan gave a small noise that was part grief, part anger and Nettie's eyes sharpened as they glanced his way. She stopped for a moment and went off to a high cupboard, grabbing down a low glass and a bottle of scotch. Coming back to the table she poured a hefty glass and pushed it into Ivan's hands.

The big man looked up and finally met her eyes and she saw then the full extent of the man's grief.

"Drink," she ordered. He didn't have to be told twice and nodded to her in silent thanks before taking a large gulp.

"What about me?" Vin asked and she could have sworn there was a fleeting pout there.

"_You_ have a head wound. You're pushin' it with me givin' you coffee, but you look like you need somethin' to stand you up again."

He scowled but took the coffee she offered, appreciating the heat of the liquid as it scolded his throat. She hadn't bothered with milk either, it was just how he liked it.

"What happened?" she asked him softly.

Vin couldn't believe it, there was a lump in his throat, but since he couldn't remember having shed a tear since the day his mother had died, he dealt with it swiftly with a quick glance at Ivan, relieved to see him staring absently into the depths of his whiskey. He pushed the images of Bruce, shot down before he could stop him, of Cheese and Rizzo, lying dead out of his head, shaking it slightly so that even that small movement caused his head to pound. He just couldn't tell her, he couldn't think about it let alone try and describe or explain it. Instead, he indicated the player again.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "But this here could hold the key."

She didn't push him again, his silence had told her much. These boys had been through hell and she didn't want to cause Vin more pain by making him dredge it up when he wasn't ready. She would do whatever he needed until he was ready to deal with it.

"You know, you don't fit the stereotype of a biker."

Vin's eyes crinkled at her assessing gaze, knowing she had given him a reprieve and taking it said, "no?"

"No."

She continued patching him up and he was surprised when she spoke a moment later. "You look too honest."

Vin laughed but he was uncomfortable with the fact that Ivan's gaze had found his at that moment. The man was staring at him and for a moment his eyes were very clear. What he was thinking though, Vin had no idea.

"I wouldn't go makin' that assumption too soon," he warned her. He was lying to just about everybody he knew. Hell, he was even lying to himself and he knew it. After a moment he realised she had paused and looked up at her, surprised at her earnest expression.

"You got old fashioned integrity, an' that's rare these days. I told you before an' I'll tell you again, you're a gentlemen, an' that's a fact."

He couldn't meet her eye and she sighed at his reluctance to accept her statement as truth. _'He doesn't know his worth, and _that's_ a fact'._

She did what she could for him, patching him up and bandaging his knee as best she could, knowing that it was that injury more than any other that was hurting him. He shouldn't be walking on it, but she kept that to herself for she knew chastising him about it wasn't going to make any difference. Finally, shoving a fresh coffee in his hand she led them to the computer, leaving them to turn it on while she went to warm some food for them. She would bet they hadn't eaten since the breakfast she'd made them.

He sat at the lone chair, Ivan peering over his shoulder as the computer finally booted up and Vin found the file. It didn't take long to forward through the recorded footage of the corridor where they had found Cheese before they saw movement. They watched guards coming and going and then after another minute forwarding Rizzo came into the frame. He was being shoved out the door by two guards and Vin could see the man wasn't completely sure what he was doing as they pushed him out and shut the door behind him. He frowned, forwarding the recording again until he saw the door open again and this time Ivan came back in, dragging Rizzo, who was not moving. He left him and took off again, coming back shortly carrying Cheese and leaving again a moment later. Cheese remained on the floor and Vin wondered if he was dead until he saw him try and sit up when guards approached him.

Vin's chest grew tight and he heard Ivan swear as they watched both guards aim their rifles at him point blank and open fire. Cheese's body jerked with the impact of the storm of bullets until the firing stopped and he lay back, completely still.

"Sweet Jesus."

Both men turned swiftly at the sound of the shocked voice behind them. The old woman was holding a plate in one hand and had her other hand to her heart, her expression distraught, but she said nothing more as she placed the food down on the table before them, somehow sensing that it wasn't a good time to try and get him them to eat after all.

Vin turned back to the screen, stopping the forward motion when he saw the door open for the final time and this time he saw himself being carried through by Ivan. The rest he knew and so he closed the video program and disconnected the device, putting it back in his pocket without a word. He nodded his gratitude to Nettie and got to his feet, Ivan giving him a hand up. When he started heading for the door she realised they were going to leave.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to eat somethin' before you head out again."

Vin stopped, remembering his manners as he once again tried to deal with the rage and shock of losing three men in the one night and seeing Cheese gunned down in cold blood. He looked at the old woman gratefully. "I appreciate yer help, ma'am. I gotta leave or I'll jist be bringin' trouble to yer door if someone see's us here." He touched the small bandage at his temple. "Thank you," he said and his eyes told her he meant it.

"You're welcome. You take care now. Both of you."

Vin nodded, giving her that grin again as he left, but this time, she could see that it didn't meet his eyes. Ivan too grunted his thanks but seemed incapable of anything more.

As soon as they left the warmth of the building Vin shivered, hugging his arms around himself in a futile attempt to keep the pleasant warmth from leaving him. The ride wasn't much farther but he knew it would seem like hours in the condition he was in and by the time he got there he would be frozen from the outside in.

He hauled himself onto his bike, not keen to get going but needing to take the pressure of his knee. He sighed with the relief and rubbed it, watching Ivan as he came to stand before him, obviously also realising that they needed to talk before they made their next move.

"It's diff'rent here," the man finally told him softly. "Diff'rent fae home… Billy's goat this place set up accordin' tae `is oan scheme. Somethin' happened tonight `n we dinnae ken the half ay it. Why were we caught `tween aw those cops `n those fuckin' guards? Somethin' dinnae add up `n Billy fuckin' ken's the answers."

Vin's heart picked up at the thought of confronting Billy, but he kept his face neutral.

"N' once Eddie gits here, eh's gonnae gi' Billy a good fuckin' seein' tae."

He studied Ivan's expression carefully. "Ya know somethin' I don't?"

Ivan wasn't playing games any more. The club was important to him, but it was his brothers, his friends, that had made it what it was. He'd been in the ranks long enough to have the club's way of life ingrained in his blood, but without his friends he knew he wouldn't stay. He had other friends in the brotherhood, but none like his closest – and now he had just lost three of them, all in the one night. There was just Vin left and he wasn't going to hold back with him, he was going to make sure that he knew where he was coming from, because he trusted him completely.

"Ah know Eddie's plannin' tae take Billy oot," he said in a low voice. "N' ah think Billy's ready tae challenge him."

Vin considered that. "Ya think Billy's ready ta go that far?"

"Oan eh's own land, aye. Eh's goat the whole city set up, if eh takes Eddie oan here, eh'll win. None ay us clocked how far Billy wis settin' up here n' eh's gaun much further than Eddie gave `im leave tae dae. Eh's goat eh's finger n' everythin'; politicians, cops, ye name it."

Vin took this in. "So where's Eddie now?"

"He was meant tae be here yesterday, we dinnae ken where he is now, but ay think ay know someone that would ken fae sure."

Still, he was confused. " Me? You think _I_ know where Eddie is?"

"Naw... Yer mate, Sugar."

Again he was alluding to a connection he was supposed to have with Sugar that truly surprised him. He could see that Ivan's face was deadly serious. "_My_ mate? Hell, Sugar ain't nobody's mate." He dismissed the thought.

But the Scotsman gave Vin a strange look, as if he were explaining something that he thought the younger man should already know. "Yer tighter wi' Sugar n' anyone else in the club. Eh went after ye when ye were still a wee lad, trained ye up, brought ye in, made sure ye had a square go… eh even stepped oot when ye goat in trouble wi' that FBI bust n' the whole fuckin' club was nipped wi' ye… eh looks oot fae ye n' naw denyin' it." Seeing Vin's frown, Ivan continued. "Ye never noticed the way eh singles ye oot?"

Vin said nothing, but the first kindling of doubt was beginning to flicker.

"When wis the last time eh ever left Denver tae visit one'a the boys in the hospital?"

"He came fer the funeral, not fer me."

But Ivan shook his head. "He hasnae been tae a funeral outside Texas since ah've been in the club – and there's been enough of `em."

Vin's argument was losing pace, but still he shook his head. "What are ya sayin'? Why would he bother lookin' out fer me? I'm nothin' ta him."

Ivan shrugged again. "That ah dinnae ken, but eh does, n' we cannae be the only ones tae clock it."

Vin shrugged off the conflicting thoughts. He'd just never considered Sugar anything but a dark, dangerous

presence that was best avoided. Then again… he thought about the conversation they'd had on the drive out here, when the older man had warned him to stay out of trouble and to watch his back. He'd thought that odd at the time hadn't he..?

"What's yer point?" he said a little gruffly, tired of the game.

"Mah point," Ivan went on, "Is that if ye talk tae him, ye'll find oot what plan's they're gaunny make."

Vin was trying to determine where he was going with this. "Ivan, I got a big fuckin' headache an' yer not helpin'. Just spit it out."

Ivan took a breath. "The club innae what it was, even back home, it's changed. Me an' Cheese..." he paused,

overcome for a moment, "We'd already decided, if Billy n' Eddie call fae war, well… we jist dinnae have the passion tae fight. We dinnae believe in it enough any maire."

Vin was not really shocked, but he argued for appearance sakes. "But it's yer life," he argued, "it's all you've got."

Ivan smiled a sad smile. "There's life beyond this," he waved a hand over his own attire, then shrugged.

"Mebbe we were jist gettin auld n' daft." He tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat ever since he'd found Cheese dead, but couldn't do it. "Ah just ken the way this life's headin' – n' Billie isnae gaunny be the last greedy wanker who tries tae take o'er the reigns. Ah've always clocked Eddie wi' respect, n' eh's done good by us aw, but ah'm naw willin' tae lay doon mah life fae `im naw maire."

Vin took a deep breath, winced, then let it out. He was buying Ivan's story, but he hadn't remained alive this long without being cautious. He could be testing him. His gut told him he wasn't, but there was still a chance he was playing some sort of loyalty game with him.

"I hear what yer sayin', an' I've known ya longer'n anyone else I know back home, so I respect whatever choice ya make, no matter the consequence ta me if ya do decide this club ain't worth fightin' fer…" he looked at Ivan solemnly, "but I ain't in the place yer in. I got a lot left in me ta give the brotherhood. It's what I am. I won't leave Eddie when the chips're down."

Ivan gave Vin a long, measuring look, then looked back down the long black road they had ridden up, as if looking back for Cheese. "Then ah'll stay oan."

Vin frowned, not expecting that. "Ya don't have ta do that. A man's gotta do what he's ready ta do. If yer heart ain't in it, then it's time ta move on." He wanted Ivan to move on.

Ivan grinned then, his mind made up. "Laddie, what a man's gottae dae eh's what it's aw about – n' aw we ken dae eh's protect our family. If ye're stayin', then so'm I."

Vin was more than alarmed and decided now wasn't the time to hedge around his thoughts. "Ivan listen to me. You said it yerself, we don't know the half of what's gone down tonight. Someone was trying to take us all out, hell they almost _did_ take us all out, and we don't know why or who or _what_ the hell's waitin' fer us when we ride back there." He wanted to convince him to go, he and Cheese had already made the decision to move on and it was the perfect solution for him. If Ivan left he wouldn't have to witness what might happen, might not have to face the reality of knowing the man he called brother was really a traitor of the worst kind.

"Go," he told him then, putting as much force into his voice as he could. "If ya leave now, I'll catch up with ya when I'm ready."

Ivan's grin grew into a smile of real warmth. He knew he had been right to trust Vin. "Ah'll wait fae ye." His smile widened as Vin's mouth opened to protest and he held up a hand. "But yir right. I ride back in thair ah'm as good as dead."

Vin was relieved but frowned at the words. "And I'm not?"

"Mebbe, but ah think Sugar'll have yer back. An' it's him ye need tae speak tae if wir gonnae take that fucker Billy oot right. An' while yir doin' that, ah'm gonnae find Eddie. An' whin you an I meet up again, it's gonnae be o'er that prick's dead body."

Vin's eyebrows were hiked, realising hadn't given Ivan enough credit. The man had come up with a working plan that made sense. The only problem was, no one was going to put Billy down except himself.

"I reckon Eddie plans to make a show at the funeral. He might be scootin' under the radar these days, but when he does do things, he likes to do em big."

"Aye. Mah thoughts exactly."

They were quiet for a moment and then Ivan spoke again. "It's gonnae get bloody, ye ken that..."

Vin sighed. "You could still just ride out of here, put all this shit behind you. There's a good chance neither of us is walkin' out of this alive if you stay."

Ivan just smiled. "Then ah'll be seein' the boys again sooner rather than later... besides, I cannae take off now, now that ye've found aw that inner anger, it might start gettin interestin' `roond here." He was still surprised that Vin had smashed up the monitors. His smile didn't stay long, though, as the loss of Cheese hit him like a fresh wave of physical pain. "'An' ah've goat some payback tae take care of."

It was final and Vin knew there was no point pushing it again. He didn't need the added pressure of Ivan counting on him for anything. He didn't want to face letting him down and if he stayed, that was exactly what would happen. He was glad he was going to take off to find Eddie.

He gave a brief nod and Ivan reached out and clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah'll see you on the flip side."

Vin felt his mouth turn up in response. "You take care."

"Always do."

Vin started his bike as Ivan put on his open-shelled helmet, waiting to make sure Ivan's bike started and letting his take off ahead of him. He started his motor and gave the bike a short rev in the cold air. Just before he made to kick up his stand and take off he turned back at the last moment and looked at the diner and sure enough, there was the old woman peering out from a peeled back curtain in the front window. He made as if to tip his hat at her, knowing she would appreciate the gesture, before a moment later he found himself on the ground. With no idea how he got there he looked up just as a heavy boot came down on his stomach, holding him down.

"Well well well. Told you we weren't finished."

Vin heard his bike cut off and dropped his head back to the hard ground with a resigned thud. Guy Royal. Damned if the man didn't have the crappiest timing in the world.

"Look like you've got yourself in a real situation here boy." Royal was holding the keys to Vin's bike mockingly in his loose fingers and in the other he had a gun aimed right at Vin's head.

Vin turned his lips into his own mocking grin even as he evaluated the threat surrounding him. Royal had only brought one man that he could see. He was either real confident, or real stupid.

"I'm flattered you're thinking of me in the middle of the night, Royal, but it's a shame ya cain't find a woman to keep ya company at night."

"You're cocky now, but we'll see how you're doing in a little while." Royal looked up at the other man. "Go see to the woman."

Vin's eyes narrowed. It was one thing to come after him, but they weren't touching the woman. As if sensing he needed the distraction, the front of the building suddenly lit up like Christmas and the front door flew open. Vin looked back up and over his shoulder from his difficult position on the ground to see Nettie standing in the doorway, the light surrounding her profile which clearly showed a shotgun held fast in her determined grip.

"You back up now Royal, or you'll be leakin' worse than my roof once I shoot ya full'a holes."

Royal scowled. "Even if you get that shot off, old woman," he gestured with his own gun, "I'll be quicker."

"Maybe. But you'll still be dead."

Royal looked up at the sound of the second female voice and saw a young woman standing in the shadows at the side of the building.

_The niece_, Vin thought, a grin lighting his face.

"Well well, looks like ya got yerself in a bit of a situation there," he mocked.

Royal scowled, his gaze going from Vin, to the old woman and back to the shadows. The man with him hadn't even gotten his gun free. After a long pause he removed his boot, wiping the sole of it on the leather jacket as he removed it, showing his complete disdain to the man.

"Another time," he said, backing up.

"Look forward to it," Vin said, sitting up and dusting off his jacket with a grin. But above the smile were eyes so hard and promising of retribution that Royal actually felt a shiver down his back as he continued to back up towards the road. He was going to back up all the way to where he'd parked his truck, that much he knew.

"Leave my keys," Vin said in a low growl.

Royal's eyes narrowed, but he dropped the keys to the ground and continued in his retreat.

Vin continued to watch the two men backing up, standing as they reached the boundary of the light cast from the diner. His gut told him the man wouldn't give up that easily, knew that the only way Royal could have known he and Ivan were there were if someone had told him. He might well be there to finish what the guards started. He reached for his own gun at the small of his back as the men were almost lost to the light just as he noticed the young woman step out of the shadows.

He didn't have time to call a warning, his eyes made out Royal's aim shift to the girl and he had his own weapon drawn and fired before the man had the gun aimed at his target. Royal still managed to fire but it was more a reflex that his finger carried on his command. He was dead before he hit the ground, the bullet finding his forehead even in the dim night air.

Vin aimed his weapon at the second man, who was still weapon-less and merely looked up from Royal's dead eyes and held his own hands up to show he meant no further fight. He continued to back away and Vin let him go.

"And don't think about comin' back here and carryin' on his work or you'll get the same!" Nettie yelled at the man, her shotgun aimed his way but unlike Vin, she couldn't see well enough in the dark to take any kind of effective aim.

Vin stayed alert until the man was completely taken by the dark and finally moved once he heard the sound of the truck starting up and taking off.

"You sure do make some interestin' friends, son."

Vin gave Nettie a sideways glance. "Guess I owe _you_ one now."

Nettie nodded, her eyes sparkling in the bright light. "Guess ya do." She looked out to Royal's body. "But not as much as I owe you. Guess that take's care'a that."

Before Vin could move a quick blur passed him and before he knew it a young woman was before him, holding out his keys with a huge grin. He nodded his thanks to her. "Guess I owe you to, thanks for the back up."

If possible, Casey's grin only grew. "Weren't no trouble. Glad to help!"

Vin shook his head at the girls energy. It was too damn late, or too damn early to be that enthusiastic about anything.

"You nearly got yerself killed! What were you thinkin' leavin' your cover like that?!" Nettie admonished her, but if she was chagrined, Vin couldn't see it. The girl was too jazzed by all the action to care and Nettie just shook her head.

Vin was contemplating Royal's body when Nettie broke into his thoughts.

"You best take care of your business before anyone else shows up here. We'll take care of it."

Vin looked at her in surprise. "I can't let you do that." To his surprise Nettie laughed.

"Won't be the first time, but hopefully it'll be the last. You've done enough riddin' us a' that scum. Least we can do is take of the mess."

Vin studied her expression a long moment then found himself shaking his head, a smile on his lips. She was one tough old bird, that was for damn sure. And he was relieved he didn't have to waste more time.

"Go," she urged him. "You ain't got a lot of steam left in ya. You stay you'll just slow us women down."

With a last glance at Royal Vin looked back at Nettie but she just gave him a shove toward his bike. "Go. I've had a spot picked out for him for a long while, an my daisies could use the push."

Vin mounted, both relieved and reluctant and then gave her a wry grin. "Maybe when this is over I can see about fixin' som'a them leaks in yer roof for ya."

Nettie's grin widened as well. "You do that, we're more than even."

Vin nodded, then without another word, kicked up his stand and turned the engine on once more, roaring off into the night and focusing his thoughts on where he was going and what he'd find when he got there. One thing he knew for sure, Ivan was right. However Billy went down, things were going to get bloody. And another thing he knew beyond all else, neither the cops, his own team, Ivan, Eddie or anyone else in the club that were gunning for Billy were going to beat him to the draw. Twenty two years he'd planned and plotted. He wanted this behind him, he could almost taste it. Whatever happened now, the end was coming for Billy the Blade and Vin was going to make _sure_ it was bloody. Then, only then, could he give Larabee and his new team his future.


	24. PART THREE Dealing with the Devil

**PART 3. **

**Part 24. ****Dealing With The Devil**

_I can't escape myself_

_So many times I've lied_

_But there's still rage inside_

_Somebody get me through this nightmare_

_I can't control myself_

_**(from Animal I Have Become Three Days Grace)**_

Dawn was lighting the sky as Vin went through the final checkpoint leading into the Joker's compound. He'd

watched the undefined skull that marked the turn-off to the dirt road as he'd passed it by. The golden light of a new day had contrasted absurdly with the vivid object of death as he followed the line of gold that ran it's way along the horizon.

Normally he loved the hour of dawn, loved the crispness of the air and the fresh feel of the new day on his face, but he was so tired it was all he could do to ignore the black dots that were dancing in the corner of his sight. Several times his tired eyes had relayed false images to his brain of objects on the road that hadn't been there and it had been a struggle to keep his seat the whole way back, following nothing but the single beam of his headlight. The only thing he found himself thankful for was that the cursed rain was holding off while he rode.

A few minutes later he'd watched the club's gates pass by to the hum of his bike, his tyres now crunching over the gravel drive as he crept slowly up toward the main building. The ground was still sodden after the countless days of rain and drizzle and puddles had crept wider so that the drive was more like passing down a shallow lake, spattering mud and dirt up onto his jeans and boots. The deep ruts and potholes now lay unseen beneath the covering of water so that every other second he would hit one sharply, cursing softly to himself before jerking his bike back on a steady course to the building.

Bar the men at the checkpoint and those that he knew would be on guard duty there were no others in sight at this hour and he wondered if they had been too busy partying the night before to know that more of their brothers were dead. It was a cold band of men that he'd found in Denver, a far cry from home, and now he was alone. He had no-one now to watch his back and that realisation was a daunting one.

Up ahead he could make out the site of the bikes parked to the side of the building. There were less than there were the last time he'd been there and he figured anyone who had ridden up from Texas would most likely have cleared out to try and meet up with Eddie. It was them against the Denver chapter, he was sure they would realise by now. He would know them all, but that didn't help him if they weren't here.

Finally he came to a stop and he slowly eased his aching body to a stand, nearly staggering as he leant his bike onto it's stand, taking a moment to steady himself before letting go of the handlebars. The stillness of the air now that he'd stopped was welcoming and he felt the first ray of warmth reaching him from the rising sun as he took off the gloves he'd worn and tugged down the bandanna that he'd tied over his mouth and nose so that it hung loosely around his neck. Eyeing the building he took a deep breath and pushed himself on. Thoughts of Ivan and the rest of the boys pushed their way to the front of his mind and he tried desperately to clear the fog of exhaustion and emotion from his brain to concentrate on what lay ahead. He wanted to know why they had been killed and he knew the answer lay with Billy, but he also knew he couldn't just go in there demanding answers.

What he also knew was that it was his fault that the men were dead. The price for shutting down the illegal

operations at the underground facility had been their lives – and possibly those of some DEA agents as well. That had been the ultimate thought in his head as he had ridden back in the freezing cold. Never mind that he hadn't been the only one to tip off Larabee's team, that the information he had provided had brought an end to the entire operation, all he could think of then was the cost.

Deep in thought and focused on putting one soggy boot in front of the other, he missed the concealed man before he'd stepped out onto the narrow path ahead of him that ran the length of the building around to the front entrance. It took his mind precious seconds to put a name to the massive frame covered from scalp to wrist in tattoos.

"Taken ta lurkin' in dark corners now?" He stopped before the man and used the wall to support his tired frame.

"Been waitin' on you."

Vin gave Charlie a small smile. "Sugar got you on sentinel duty now?"

Charlie smiled back. "You ain't that important kid."

Vin waited for the man to speak. Loitering around at dawn in the chill air had to have a reason.

"Come back round this way."

The last thing Vin wanted to do was stand out longer in the cold, but he sensed Charlie had something important to say. He hadn't seen the man since he'd first arrived. At that time he'd been with the boys and he had thought something was a little off about the man. He was reassured by the familiar pressure of the gun tucked in the back of his jeans, hoping he was just being paranoid.

They moved back around the building and over to Charlie's own bike, which Vin had missed sitting behind Sugars. Vin eyed the familiar site of the excessive amount of chrome add-ons and Charlie stopped him short before he could say anything.

"Shaddup."

Vin smiled. He'd been ribbing the guy for years about the chrome, he and the rest of the Texan club. Behind his back the bike had labelled him pimp-daddy.

"It's okay, I always thought the pin-stripes balance it out," he couldn't help but put in.

Privately, Vin liked the Softail Deuce, once you stripped away the layers of silver to the beast beneath of course. The 1451 V-Twin had enough power to satisfy even him on the open road.

"I kept the seat stock," Charlie put in and Vin nodded with a smile.

"Yeah cos you couldn't find one big enough for you after market." Small talk over, Vin turned and looked Charlie in the eye. "What's goin' on?"

Charlie glanced around them, even looked up, but there were no rooms above them and stepped in closer.

"Sugar would have met you himself but he's been called in to see Billy. Things've moved faster than we thought they would."

"What things?"

"Things with Eddie.. with Billy. Where did he send you last night? Where's the boys?"

Vin could see he would have to give a little to get a little. He sighed and looked down, unfathomably tired to the point of wanting to just sit down and not move for a week. "Dead." He looked up. "They're dead."

Charlie's shock was clear.

"We were set up." Vin hesitated. He didn't know if he could trust Charlie with his thoughts. Sugar he would have told straight up, he knew where the man's loyalties lied, but Charlie had been acting odd before he'd left.

"You have to tell me what you know. This is too important."

Vin studied his face a long minute. "Where's Sugar now?"

"Billy's office." Charlie shook his head. "Look, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now and you think you can't trust anyone..." he cursed and shook his head again, muttering to himself almost. "I fuck'n told Sugar to give it to you straight weeks ago, instead'a all this cloak an' dagger shit. Ya got a right ta know."

Vin's gaze narrowed to laser precision. Had he been wrong, had Charlie been the one on the up and Sugar was the one playing games? "Know what?"

Charlie took a deep breath. "Look kid. I've known Sugar since before I could walk. His mama practically raised me. Hell not practically, she _did_. Me an' him? We're brothers, an' not just the Joker kind." He paused a moment, taking another look around to make sure they were still alone. "I know everythin' the guy thinks before he even thinks it, so I know all about you, from the moment you thought it was your decision to come up here and gun for Billy."

Vin was shocked, alarmed and panicked all in one, but he did well to hide his emotions as he blinked back at the all too serious man before him. "What?" He could have kicked himself, but right then, he really had no idea what to say.

"Sugar's been nurturin' you along since you were a kid. You think your secrets are safe from him?"

And again with the Sugar theories.

"I ain't got no secrets, seems like you two do though."

Charlie had had enough of the placid route. He grabbed a handful of Vin's jacket and pulled him up close, getting right in his face.

"Listen to me an' listen good. You think you're alone in what you're tryin' ta do here, but you're not. I'm tellin' you this for your own damn good. Personally, I don't give a shit if you go in and get yourself shot in there, but Sugar does, an' that means somethin' ta me." He shoved Vin back and Vin righted himself, still not sure what the hell Charlie was saying.

"Just get to the damn point."

"The point is, you left Texas with a bee in yer bonnet, gunnin' for Billy. I lied that I knew every secret Sugar had, he never did tell me why you've got it in for the man, but he knew how you followed Billy's every move, paid attention and asked questions when you thought he wasn't noticin'. Whatever that reason is, I don't care and Eddie sure as hell doesn't care."

"Eddie?" Jesus,did _everyone_ know?

"Yeah kid, Eddie. Who do you think sent us here ridin' yer tail? We've sent all the boys out to meet up with Eddie, you're the last one here. You think we're left out here for fun?"

Vin blinked, giving his head a small shake at the same time, truly confused. "Why?" was all he could come up with.

"Cos he wants you to succeed."

Again Vin shook his head, taking it in. "Lemme get this straight. Sugar thinks I have a vendetta against Billy an' Eddie doesn't care what that might be as long as I take Billy out fer him?"

Charlie tilted his head to the side. "Yeah, think that about covers it," he said almost cheerfully. To his surprise, Vin started laughing.

"I miss somethin'?"

Vin laughed softly but passionately. He laughed until he was bent over, holding his flaming ribs and he had to work to get air into his battered lungs. What a night.

"Kid, how hard did you hit your head tonight?" Charlie was actually worried Vin was losing it.

Vin straightened and ran a weary hand over the lengthening stubble of his beard before putting a hand out to steady himself against the wall. It was too absurd.

"Eddie wants me to take out Billy," he said again, slowly, and Charlie nodded. "And when I walk in there, Billy's gonna want me to take out Eddie."

Charlie frowned but nodded. "That's what Sugar thinks you're aiming for, tryin'a get in his pocket. Billy found out you're military-issue, he's gonna wanna use that. But you know that already."

Vin nodded and suddenly the smile left his face. He looked past Charlie's massive shoulders to the large storage shed way back in the dark border at the back of the property.

"What exactly does Sugar want from me?" he asked simply. He didn't bother to question anything any more.

"You took too long, playin' games. When you came out here, we thought you'd get Billy alone and put a hole in his fuckin' head, but you started dickin' around and we don't know why. Maybe you wanted to make sure you did it long and slow, cut him down where he feels it most. Maybe you're overthinkin' it, hell if I know, but you're out of time and Eddie needs us to back him. You go in there and get Sugar an' you both meet me out here."

But Vin wasn't ready to go anywhere just yet. "Why would you think that's why I came here? You guys practically forced me..." he stopped, feeling suddenly very cold. "Holy _shit_. You _did_ force me!" He wasn't pretending one bit, the realisations were coming fast and hard. Charlie's solemn expression told him he was right. "You set up the whole thing? The FBI bust, my wrap for it? _Decker_? All of that to push me to get here?"

Charlie folded his arms, letting Vin deal for the moment. The kid had thought he'd been making his own decisions, but Sugar had been steering him along the whole time. He wasn't sure how he was going to react.

"Decker knew you wanted me out, but he didn't know why... that's what he was goin' on about the night he died. He thought you guys were tryin'a get rid of me."

"Sugar knew Decker would be the right tool to convince you to move on. First time he's ever bailed on his job that I can remember."

Vin thought about it all, working out his questions. "This ain't right. Even if this is all true, how could no-one give a damn why I'd want to kill Billy? It goes against everythin' we stand for."

"_Billy's_ gone against everythin' we stand for. An' Sugar has his reasons to trust you, that's enough for Eddie, enough for me."

Vin's already stretched mind was whirling. What did Sugar know about his past? Had he been a fool to think his past was his own when right along someone had been onto him? And if they knew that much, knew that he had served in the military, what else did they know? There was no way they could know he was NTF, or ATF now as it were, and that he could still be alive, no matter how much they wanted Billy dead. He'd joined the department right after he returned, not getting in touch with anyone back in Texas until he was fully trained and a qualified agent. Nobody had known where he'd gone when he'd joined the military, or so he'd thought. At the time he'd said he wanted to see the world. Sugar had wanted him to start fighting professionally but he'd told him it wasn't what he wanted. When he'd moved back to Texas, he'd started training with him again, but this time he didn't resist the push from Sugar to be a part of the club. He'd fought his way in, literally, with Sugar as his trainer, the older man vouching for him when he was voted in.

"I was never gonna go in there and kill him in cold blood, if that's what ya'll were hopin'. If Sugar knows _anythin_' he should know I'm gonna do this my way."

"The time for your way's gone. Eddie's here, gone to ground but he's here. He's gatherin' all the boys to him, hell, there ain't no-one left back in Texas by now. This is war kid. You were supposed ta be the trojan horse we sent in. He's been waitin' on news that you've done your part before he takes out the rest of the chapter. He's gonna clean out the whole nest, one by one if he has to. They followed Billy, knowing he was heading against Eddie, they all gotta go down. When he's finished, the streets are gonna literally run red, but hey, at least they'll be close to the cemetery."

"Jesus Christ." Ivan hadn't been wrong when he'd said it was going to get bloody. How the hell was he supposed to prevent a battle like this? "But now you want me to ride away with you? Just let it all go?"

Charlie gave a noise that was half laugh, half derision. "You're done kid. You're _too_ damn close to the problem. An' no matter how good you are, you won't be able to take him now, not here, not today. Eddie's got a new plan and we're bringin' you back with us." When Vin stayed stubbornly silent Charlie had had enough of playing it the nice way. His face hardened and he leant his body forward into Vin's space. "I told you Eddie knows about your plan to take down Billy, I didn't say there weren't going to be repercussions for acting out against the club."

Vin's eyes narrowed as he clearly felt the threat. "But if I take care of this Eddies way I get a free pass?"

Charlie just shrugged, leaning back.

Vin pulled in his bottom lip, thinking fast. He needed more information. "He's gonna take them down right there at the funeral? Broad daylight?"

There was the slightest hesitation that Vin picked up on. "Yep. It's a hell of a plan too. In the end, there'll be so much blood and confusion, he'll get away clean. Be lucky if he ain't already back in Texas 'fore they start sortin' out the carnage."

Vin took as deep a breath as his chest would allow, feeling the headache he'd been trying to avoid come back to bounce around the back of his eyes.

"I can't just go out there tomorrow and shoot the man. I'd be dead in a heartbeat. I've paid my dues, I ain't about to get myself shot down for anyone."

"He's not askin' you to. You just need to know that you're a fool if you think the man's gonna embrace you and let you into his fold so you can carve out his heart from the inside. He's a lot of things, but he ain't stupid. The times come for you to step up. You had a plan, you've run out of time. Now you're doin' this Eddie's way. We're not askin' you."

"I had a chance to do that. When I first came out here I went upstairs. Sugar found me talkin' to Billy alone, came stormin' in and sent me on my way before I could do anythin'. Why didn't he let me do it then?"

"Cos there were too many people around. Everyone saw you go up there, he was worried it wasn't the right time."

"_And tomorrow is?"_

"You'll need to speak to Eddie about that. Sugar just wanted me to talk to you before you go in there and try and make nice with the guy again. He's dangerous, he ain't gonna want you to be his friend. He wants to use you and what he wants from you you can't give. So he'll kill you for failin' him before you get your chance."

"So either way I'm screwed." And he meant it. He really was. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

They heard a noise and Vin turned around to see one of Billy's guards come from around the front of the building.

"Billy's waiting for you inside."

Vin turned back to Charlie, who just gave him a long look before unfolding his arms and heading away in the opposite direction.

Vin pushed off the wall slowly and followed the guard who, judging by the tired look of him, had scored himself the graveyard shift. He stepped behind him into the large entrance and out of the cold morning air. His mind was troubled, trying to process all that Charlie had told him. So many things made sense now from the time leading up to his coming here, but those realisations only prodded more questions. He steeled himself for whatever conversation lay ahead as he was led to a large, wooden door that opened before he even got there.

His first sight was Jake, who merely looked him over from head to toe before gesturing him inside. Vin said nothing, his expression blank as the guard followed in behind him as he entered, closing the heavy door. His eyes found Sugars, seeing nothing there that gave any clue as to what he'd walked in on, but the man looked furious.

He noticed Billy then, seated calmly behind his desk and studying him intently. He would have noticed him first he was sure, but Jake had been blocking his view. But it was the two seated men facing Billy that caught his full attention at that moment. Here was something that Charlie could have warned him about, but he guessed he wouldn't have thought it would concern him.

Ezra met Vin's glance with a carefully neutral expression of his own, but he was glad to see the biker-slash-ATF agent alive, if not the worse for wear.

"What the hell happened to you this time?" Sugar asked, trying to find a patch of visible skin on Vin that wasn't blackened, bleeding or bruised.

"That's what I want to know." Vin said and right then knew what he had to do, how he would play it.

Billy looked smug and it told him what he needed to know. The bastard _had_ taken the boys out, leaving him alive. There'd been more than one opportunity for the guards to kill him if they'd wanted to, but they hadn't. So why would Billy leave him alive? Because he wanted him alone, left with nothing, vulnerable. And the only reason he would want that is so he could take advantage. So the trick now was to use that to _his_ own advantage. Billy wanted him with no other option, so that whatever he would offer him would look like a lifeline.

"You look like you could use a seat," Billy said, looking at him carefully, assessing his state of mind.

"Did you set it up?" he asked point blank, his voice sounding defeated. He didn't move toward the seat but rather tapped into the anger and loss he felt.

Billy made a kind of tutting noise. "You've obviously been through an ordeal. How about you take a load off now and think about how you want to proceed before you say somethin' you might regret." He pointed to the empty chair.

Vin stayed standing in defiance and was shocked when Jake suddenly grabbed him from behind and pushed him down forcibly into the chair.

"Sit," he was told and when Vin made to get up he was dealt a sickening blow to his injured knee from Jake's boot.

He yelled out sharply with the sudden pain, not able to stop himself falling from the chair as his hands desperately clutched his knee as if trying to hold it together.

"You son of a bitch!" he heard Sugar yell and was surprised when Billy got between him and Jake.

"That's enough," the president said harshly. He didn't want Turner further injured, he wanted him on his side.

"You gonna let him talk to you like that?" Jake argued.

Billy gave Jake a hard look. "You act out again like that you'll have more to worry about than how someone's talking to me." He looked at Vin again, watching the younger man grind his jaw tight as he fought to rise above the pain he was in. "He's not thinking straight right now and this isn't going to get us anywhere."

Jake scoffed at that, pissed off that Billy had reprimanded him in front of Sugar, but knowing the plan he and Billy had set and following it. If he had to play bad cop, he was at least going to enjoy it. He said nothing more as Vin picked himself up with effort, ignoring Billy's hand as he seated himself, breathing hard through his pain.

Vin still clutched his knee as he righted himself, feeling the agony radiate up his leg right up to his head where his skull was pounding in time with his heart. His anger had multiplied with Jake's blow, threatening to unhinge his plan to play the victim. For a second his rage led him to the dangerous thought, _'I could end this right here and now'_, but Sugar cut in before he could say or do anything else that would land him in trouble.

"What the hell happened?"

Vin turned to him, still breathing through his pain as he shot a fierce look at Jake. _Payback was going to be a bitch._ "I don't know. One minute we're runnin' around dodgin' the cops, next minute, the guards themselves are trying to take us down – _did_ take some of us down. Cheese, Rizzo, Ivan, Bruce, they're all dead." He faced Billy again and he thought he should get an academy award for the lost tone he injected into his voice. "Was supposed to be easy, a little persuasion you said... now four of my brothers are dead. I came back alone."

Jake scowled at that. "_Four_ of them?"

Something in his tone had Vin rethinking fast. _They knew about Ivan making it out with him._ Security must have alerted them somehow.

"Yeah, four," he repeated. "Ivan made it out with me, but he was taken out at the roadhouse down the road by a crazy son of a bitch called Guy Royal."

The suspicion left Jake's eyes. "Huh. That's bad luck." He flicked a gaze at Billy and Vin caught it, knowing then that they had set that up too. But they'd missed Ivan, that, at least, he could hold on to. He had decided to keep the Scotsman as a secret weapon, there was no need to let him out of his pocket just yet.

Vin scowled and half rose from the chair again, but Billy put a hand on his shoulder.

"I see you got away from him..."

"Last I saw he was runnin' fer the hills. I didn't have it in me ta give chase, but he's as good as dead next I see him."

"Is this the operation you've been denying exists for the last year?" Sugar asked Billy with much sarcasm.

Billy ignored him and got up to come around his desk to stand before Vin, seating himself on the edge of the solid wood as he spoke calmly. "I don't order those men to do anything except watch the facility. If they acted out of turn, they'll be dealt with. Hell, I'll let you do it yourself. Can you identify them?"

Vin forced his jaw to remain relaxed. He wanted to snap the lying son of a bitch's neck right then and there. Apparently Sugar wouldn't care and between them they could take Jake and the guards, even injured as he was, he had some fight left in him yet. And that gave him pause. _What was he waiting for? _He could get away with it. Or could he... There was ATF agent sitting right there. An agent that trusted him to do the right thing...

"They're dead? _All_ of them?" Sugar said, moving past the shock of the news.

"Yeah," he said, distracted by his rampant violent thoughts, his voice ever-rough. "Riddled with bullets, all of 'em."

"You've gone too far," Sugar said then in a too calm voice. "You think you can run an operation like this and hide it from the rest of the club? You know you're not going to get away with this."

"I already have," Billy said with a cold look at Sugar. "And you've outstayed your welcome." All pretence was gone now, his voice was deadly. "I'm going to give you this one chance to get the last of you that's left here and ride the fuck out now. Go run back to Eddie, tell the prick I'm ready for him."

Vin looked from Sugar in the silence that followed to the only exit in the room. Billy was laying his cards out on the table. In a room this small, this occupied, no way was that a good thing.

Sugar kept his gaze on Billy, seeing the deadly intent in his eyes. "You go after Eddie an' you won't last a day. So I'll give you this one last chance. Come clean with everything you're doing here, stand the fuck down and let the club decide what happens next to both you and your boys."

Billy actually laughed at that. "Yeah, I can see that happening. And right after you lynch me you'll divvy up the profits I've shed my own blood, sweat and tears to make. No fucking way is anyone getting a cut of that. Eddie's too much of a pussy to put things in place so I did this all on my own, now you can all fuck off back to where you belong. By the time the dust settles we'll be tradin' under our own name."

Sugar shook his head. "That really how you think this is gonna end?" he asked him very calmly. "You think it'll be that easy to get clear? This club made you, you can't ever turn your back on that."

Vin saw anger flash in Billy's eyes. "The club didn't make me. What I've done, what I've achieved I did on my own. I can do whatever the hell I like. You take me on in my own town you know there's going to be blood before this is over," he added, "but it won't be mine." He nodded to Jake. "Think Sugar's ready to leave now. See him and his shadow lurking outside out of here."

Sugar's scowl was fierce. "You're a damn fool."

There was a long pause, the tension in the room palpable before Sugar finally let out a breath. "Fine. I'm out of here. I did what I could, you can't say you weren't warned." He gestured to Vin. "Come on, let's ride."

Assuming Vin would follow he waited for him to get up out of the chair and when Vin didn't move he frowned, but Vin didn't move an inch and when he looked at Sugar the older man could see the determination there. And it scared him.

"Kid," he said carefully, "you're ridin' out with us now, or I'm going to make you."

Jake chuckled and Billy looked more than just smug now. He looked like he'd eaten the canary and Sugar wanted to bounce his fist off the man's face until he was unconscious. Hell, in another minute he _would _beat him unconscious.

"I'll follow in a bit. Just want to clear a few things up here first."

But Sugar shook his head. "I'm not askin' you."

Billy moved further into the room, placing himself between Sugar and Vin and the guards stepped away from the walls. "I asked Vin to go to last night 'cause I knew he was more than capable of getting the job done. All the time he's been with the club and he knows he's not getting and further in Texas. A few days here and he's already an integral part of my operation. I can use a man like him." He paused for a moment and his smirk was purely for Sugar. "I'd be a fool not to."

Sugar swore. "You're seriously think he's that stupid? You'll take him out in a second once you have no more use for him. You're fuckin' nuts if you think Vin's gonna be your pawn."

Sugar took another long look at Vin, trying to get him to look at him. He knew what the fool kid was doing, but getting himself on Billy's team wasn't going to get him anything but dead. He couldn't work out what the kid was playing at. He knew he wanted Billy dead, had known it for a long, long time. They'd let him head here knowing that he was going to take care of a problem that had been festering for far too long, but things had gone pear shaped the second he'd ridden into the state. Now, he had no idea what the fool kid was planning. He obviously wasn't going for quick and easy. But everything he was doing now was leading to a place he did not think the kid could handle on his own and the last thing he wanted was to leave him alone to these sharks. Before he could speak again Billy surprised him yet again and from the gleam of his eyes, it was clear he was enjoying the fruits of his orchestration.

"Perhaps we can give Sugar another incentive to get going. Bring her in," he ordered the guards suddenly.

The guards turned and left and came back only a moment later with Suzy between them. She protested as they brought her before Billy.

"What the hell's this about?" Her eyes darted around the room and a second later Billy had adjusted his aim and pointed his gun right at her head. He moved in close until his hot breath spoke right into her ear, the gun nuzzling her neck.

"Don't. Speak," he whispered.

The image of Billy whispering in the same way to his mother just before he killed her had Vin's heart pounding anew. He was assailed with images from his past, images he had fought long and hard to press down deep where they could not burn him. He knew, hearing the man now, he _knew_ he was going to do it again. He didn't realise he'd made a noise until he saw that everyone had turned towards him.

Sugar looked at Vin, wondering at the look on the kid's face, but he couldn't worry about that right then. He was going to explode himself.

Billy looked at Sugar, gun still aimed and ready. "You want to tell me what you were doin' sneakin' around in her room?"

Sugar glanced at Jake. All he could do was try and protect the girl now. "We talked. She didn't do anything wrong."

Billy's eyebrows shot up. "How very noble of you." He looked at Sugar. "You must have fucked him good to get such loyalty out of him."

"We didn't do anything," she said in a too soft voice and Vin realised she also believed Billy was about to kill her.

"Then you were conspiring against me, sneaking around behind my back." Almost under his breath he hissed. _"And history repeats."_

She just shook her head, too afraid to do more. She was too scared to pretend not to be.

"She doesn't deserve this," Sugar said carefully, knowing how volatile the man was. He knew better than anyone else how cold the man could be and he knew he would not hesitate to kill a woman. After all, he'd done it before.

Being the totally erratic man that he was, Billy suddenly turned away from them, completely abandoning the conversation for the moment and leaving them all hanging. He turned and picked up a package from his desk, turning back and pulling out fresh photographs and approaching Mitri, who was eyeing him warily in return. The man had been taking everything in with escalating panic. Like Ezra, he had come to the conclusion that if not before, he now knew too much to be able to walk out of there.

"I can see that your pride is going to prevent you from doing anything sensible, so I'll just take a bit of pleasure now before I kill you. This one in particular, I think, is a good angle of her... your wife I think?"

Mitri stared at the pictures in mute shock. His face could not possibly begin to reflect the horror he felt within as he saw what they had done to his wife and then, just as utter rage and anguish was about to below out from his mouth, there was a sudden double explosion of gunfire in the room that made everyone jump.

Suzy screamed and the fact that she screamed registered to Vin that she was still alive as he followed the aim of Billy's arm. Ezra was splattered in blood and beside him, the space where Mitri Vlahov had been, was abruptly empty. His chair had toppled backwards when Billy's first bullet had smashed into his chest, followed closely by the hit to his face. Double tap. An untidy one, but an execution all the same. Vin realised that Billy was either a crap shot, or he himself was just thinking too clinically, because if he'd been the one shooting, the man would have two holes in his head. And he wouldn't still be taking his last strangled breaths.

Billy threw the pictures down and Vin saw them land face up on Mitri's still choking chest, some clinging to the gushing blood. He glanced at a close shot of a woman's face, ghastly white with wide black eyes staring back, obviously dead. The others were obscured by Ezra's chair. But Billy wasn't finished and aimed his gun then at Ezra.

"Wait," Vin said as calmly as he could over the noise of the dying man's wretched breathing.

They all looked at him and he pointed to Ezra. "What's he done?"

"That's none of your concern." Jake started, but to his surprise, Billy answered.

"He kept bad company. You want to blame someone for tonight, you can blame the dead guy. He's the one called in the cops, trying to put us out of business while he took over the game."

"I know him," Vin went on, knowing he was taking a chance but also knowing that if he didn't, Ezra was going to die.

Billy frowned, glancing at him, his gun still aimed, but paused all the same as he waited for Vin to continue.

"He's the manager from the club."

"And?"

Vin shrugged, trying to be completely calm in spite of the crazed hammering of his heart. A moment ago he'd been ready to kill Billy where he stood, his rage almost overcoming him. Now, he knew if he did that, it wasn't just his own life at stake. Ezra would be dead in another minute if he didn't get his head on straight.

"He saved my skin that night. If it weren't fer him, I'd be a dead man. He backed us up, warned us just in time as the cops came down on us. He's ok, I'll vouch for him."

Ezra's heart was racing, Vin was taking a big chance sticking his neck out like this. Billy was looking at him, still unconvinced as he heard Mitri finally go quiet.

"Check his arm," Vin continued, "he took a bullet meant for Keg. I don't think he knew what that guy was into."

"Didn't help him much," Jake put in, but stepped forward all the same, flipping out a knife he pulled from a pocket and roughly cutting the sleeve of the arm Ezra nodded to. He drew blood but Ezra wasn't complaining if it would help keep him alive a bit longer. There was a bandage revealed underneath.

"We found him at that prick's house," Jake nodded down at Mitri, speaking to Billy. " An' we know it was him that spoke out. Why would he be at his house if he wasn't in with him?"

Vin looked at Mitri, not having met the man before. "I don't know, but he's a good guy. He doesn't deserve ta die like this, not after what he did for us, an' he wouldn't've helped us if he was against us. I owe him." Vin was challenging Billy now. There were codes that Billy could not outright deny, not if his intentions were truly for the preservation of the club,

Billy looked hard at Ezra, who merely stared back, waiting for the verdict. "What were you doing at Mitri's house?"

Ezra kept his voice flat, surprised by how dry his mouth had become. He was on razor thin ice and he knew it.

"He wanted me to drop some paper's off to him, so I did. He is - he _was_," he reiterated, "my boss," he said simply, like that explained everything. "I had no idea what he was up to." He feigned total confusion as he looked around the room, as if still trying to work out where the hell he was. "I _still_ have no idea what he was up to."

A moment later Ezra almost sighed with relief when Jake let his arm drop at Billy's nod, the president giving him a clear warning.

"You're gonna need a new line of work."

"Well, I do have certain skills I believe you might benefit from..."

Vin blinked at Ezra in disbelief, studying him through the splattering of blood that covered the agent's face. He was trying to get him out of there and there he was trying to use the opportunity to dig himself further in. _Was the man crazy?_ Hadn't this taught him enough? He should be running like hell.

Billy, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow, although he did look slightly amused. "I doubt that." He nodded toward Vin. "You're one lucky son of a bitch, but this brother's word is good enough for me. You can leave." He spoke to the guards again. "Show him the gate, and send a few boys in here to clean up this shit."

"Might I enquire as to some form of transport?"

Vin almost groaned. Talk about pushing your luck.

"Yeah, your feet. Get movin' before I change my mind."

Vin watched Ezra leave, relieved that he'd managed to get the southerner clear of danger for the moment. He'd banked on Billy's eagerness to show him he trusted him to get the man free. He'd done all he could for him and he was sure he was resourceful enough to find his way back to the city, as far as it was.

The door opened a few seconds later and two more soldiers came in, this time they were the biggest guys Vin suspected the Denver chapter had. They moved in behind Sugar who scowled at Billy. This had all been planned.

"This'll never be your club. You're not going to last a minute if you try to take out Eddie." Sugar told Billy with promise in his words.

"Don't need it to be." Billy said with another smug smile. He walked up to stand before Suzy and this time his gun pointed right between her eyes. "But if you don't get the fuck out right now, _she_ won't last another minute."

Sugar looked from Suzy, to Billy, to Vin, his eyes boring into the younger man's before he was shoved towards the door.

"This man's the devil, Turner, you remember that. Any deal you make with the devil's bound ta go up in flames. You stay here now, you're on your own."

Vin's heart picked up its pace again, but he was committed. And he knew that Sugar knew what he was up to, whether the man agreed with his plan or not.

They forced Sugar towards the door but the big man wasn't sitting out without a fight. He swung hard at one of the men before attacking the next, putting them both down despite their size before turning back to Billy, ignoring the gun Jake had trained on him from a safe distance.

"I can walk myself out. You've sealed your fate here today," he warned him.

Billy's smug smile stayed firmly in place as Sugar turned and left without another look back. The two guards picked themselves up slowly and followed him out.

There was a long silence in the room in the wake of Sugar's departure. Vin found himself left alone with Jake, Billy and for some reason that he had yet to determine, Suzy.

"Now," Billy said calmly, "let's start over."

"Is there some reason you want me here?"

Billy looked at Suzy, having forgotten about her for the moment. "Did I say you could speak?"

Suzy scowled, a red tinge flushing high on her cheeks. As she opened her mouth to protest Billy suddenly shouted with rage, moving forward and backhanding her from her chair. "Don't say a fucking word! You're lucky I've let you breathe my air this long."

Vin watched Suzy pick herself up slowly from the floor. She brushed her hair from her eyes and scowled at Billy, looking like she wanted to rip his throat out. He too wondered just why she was there. _What had happened between her and Sugar?_

The two guards that had left with Sugar returned to stand at the back of the room. Vin kept his arm over his ribs, one long leg bent casually under his chair and the other, bandaged one, straightened before him now as he sat low in the chair with an air of indifference about him – at least that's what he was aiming for. He tried and failed to assess the situation by reading Billy's face.

"Tell me exactly what happened tonight," Billy ordered quietly.

Vin could see that there was an intensity in the man's face that betrayed the softly voiced command. Larabee had done his part, he was certain of it. For all his bravado, Billy must have lost everything. That, at least, gave him some measure of satisfaction. If nothing else, he had that on him. He narrowed his eyes in return.

"If I knew I wouldn't have come here askin' you."

"I'm asking you a question and you throw it back at me?"

Not liking the rest of the people in the room towering over him Vin got to his feet, surprisingly quick considering the effort concealed behind the movement. "It was a fuckin' suicide mission an' now they're all dead, all four of 'em." He injected bitter anger into his voice, his eyes angry and hard. He sensed that Billy would never respect a man who was weak and knew he was right when a slight smile came to the president's lips, fleeting though it was.

A silence fell then while Billy seemed to study the younger man.

"Sit down," Jake said from behind him. "I ain't tellin' you again."

Vin slowly turned his head to look at Jake, piercing the older man with his glare before turning to defer to Billy. When Billy gave a small nod for Vin to sit he did, effectively demonstrating to Jake that while he would tolerate Billy's orders, he wasn't about to obey his second in commands.

Jake took the slap in the face for what it was and as he watched Billy looking at Vin with interest, he knew he was playing his part well. The kid was playing right into their hands.

"You want answers you bottle that temper of yours," Billy advised and Vin felt his father's scrutiny in the momentary silence. This was his chance, he thought yet again - what he had wanted since he was five years old, the chance to take the life that had robbed him of everything he had ever loved. He could reach up and have his hands around his neck in a heartbeat, he could kill him right then and there if he chose to. He had hesitated before, with Ezra in the room. But now... Jake would be on him in a flash but it would be enough time to do what needed to be done...and yet he held back. And he knew then, that he couldn't do it. Not like this. Not in a cold room like this. It was the wrong path. He would offer Billy everything he wanted... and then he would betray him in the worst possible way. And make sure he knew exactly who had done it and why. This wasn't about just killing the man, it was about destroying him. Killing him would be too quick, too easy. He was going to do it right.

Completely oblivious to Vin's inner battle Billy pushed his cigarettes at him across the table, shrugging when they were refused with a curt shake of the head. He took one out and lit it, dragging slowly and letting a long stream out on a sigh as he tossed the packet to Jake over Vin's head.

"I sent you to make sure the cops stayed outside," Billy said.

"You sent me into a fucking battle we had no chance of winning. You said the security out there could handle it," Vin shot back angrily.

Billy knew Vin had done no wrong, he just wanted to push his buttons. "What happened to the rest of your boys?"

"You tell me."

There was a tense silence as everyone waited for Billy to explode at the accusation. Indeed by the hardness of his jaw he appeared to be controlling himself as he asked carefully, "Are you saying you think I had something to do with them getting killed?" Billy was determined to let Jake play the bad guy, wanted Vin to trust him, but the kid was pushing his limits.

_Oh I know you did._ But he sighed after looking at Billy a long moment, letting him think his weariness was clouding his judgement as he rubbed a hand over his rough jaw. "I don't know what to think."

"Then tell me why you would think I'd kill my own men."

Vin's eyes never left Billy's as he spoke. "Because you don't consider any of us to be your men. All's I know is that those guards picked us off one by one and it weren't no accident. They were on your payroll, so who else's orders would they be followin'?"

Damn Bale for his amateur handling of the situation. Turner was never supposed to see the guards carry out the hits, he was meant to think it had been the cops. "You actually saw them fire on you?"

"I saw them. I saw them fire on Cheese until he was one mass of bleedin' holes." Vin looked down a moment, not acting as he again ran a hand over his weary eyes, overwhelmed for a moment at the senseless loss of life that he had witnessed first hand. He just couldn't believe they had all gone out that way. That Ivan and Cheese had been making plans to start new lives...

Billy almost smiled. In fact, over Vin's head he shared a look with Jake that spoke volumes, and only Suzy saw it. She knew in that moment that Billy had been behind the killings, that he had wanted to do this to Turner. He had just ripped his friends away from him and she knew better than most that everything that Billy did was with purpose. He had wanted to break this man, because he wanted to own him, just like he'd done to her. Whatever Billy wanted, he got, one way or another.

"Why would they do that?" Vin asked then, raising his head to look Billy once more in the eye. "Why would they take the time to take us all out when they had cops bearing down on them from all angles?"

"I have no idea," Billy said, shaking his head. "Eddie's been trying to bring me down any way he can. Perhaps he tipped them off. Perhaps he got to the guards... The only way we'll have any answers is when Bale gets here. In fact, it would be my pleasure to let you get some answers from him, if you're up to it."

Vin frowned at Billy then, marvelling at how easily the man lied. Bale hadn't organised this. He was probably running scared right then for everything having gone wrong tonight. But he played Billy's game.

"You think Eddie tried to take out your men? You think the guards thought we were local?"

Billy shrugged. "I can't think of any other reason for them to open fire on you."

The silence was broken again as Billy moved on, changing the subject swiftly. He rested his cigarette in the already full ashtray and leant forward. "You know as well as I do what's happening here. You heard what I said to Sugar."

"I heard you make some pretty bold claims. Can't see how you think you're going to be able to back 'em up."

At that, Billy only smiled a knowing smile, sitting back and picking up the cigarette for another drag and Vin suddenly found that all of the smoke was getting to him. He needed fresh air… and he needed sleep.

"Let me ask you this… Why did you join the club?"

"All's I want is to lie down and sleep fer a week an' you wanna sit here playin' games?" he said angrily.

"Just answer my question."

Vin sighed and gave the standard response. "Why did I join the club... to be a Joker. I wanted that more than anythin'."

"Yes, but what did that mean to you?"

What did he want to hear...? "Power, respect… freedom."

Billy tapped the desk with each word for emphasis, the sudden volume in his voice unexpected. "Power, respect, freedom!" He pointed at Vin with his smoke. "Exactly! And you rose through the ranks quickly, making sure everyone knew about you, Sugar's protégé… until you got overambitious and fucked up with the FBI…"

"I did time fer that, an' I know my own resumé. What's yer point?"

"How far could you go?" Billy asked him. "You've reached your ceiling with the club, as civilians say. People like Eddie stay around forever an' you're still living under another man's rules…"

"What's yer _point_?" he said again with more force.

Billy's eyes shaded a moment then, and Vin thought he might have gone too far.

"My _point_, is that with Eddie gone, you'll have room to grow."

"With Eddie gone? You'll never take him out. He'll see you comin' a mile off."

"Not if we do it right."

After a moment Billy turned over some papers that had been sitting on his desk and Vin tried to look surprised as he flicked his eyes up to Billy's, then turned and looked at Jake.

"I know you can take out Eddie and he'll never hear a sound... tell me, does Sugar know about this little

talent of yours?"

Suzy was trying to get a better look at the images and was able to make out a photo of Vin in a casual position, crouched down and supporting himself by using his rifle as a staff.

Vin had already determined how this conversation was going to go not long after asking Larabee to leak the

information. He didn't bother to deny anything. "So I take out Eddie, then I've got you tellin' me what ta do instead'a him. What's the diff'rence?"

"The difference is that I don't think like Eddie does. I want things to change. When the club started it stood for

something, but now… now it's too bureaucratic. You an' me, we think alike… in a way, you're just like I was back when I started out."

At those words Vin nearly choked on his air. He knew he was being goaded, he knew he was just a tool they were using to further themselves and now, beyond any doubt, he knew that Billy had killed his friends tonight, to isolate him and make him vulnerable. He had handed Billy the information himself about his sharpshooting skills and it had gotten three men killed. He didn't know how he could live with that and he suddenly felt his anger swell.

"How the fuck would you know what I think?" He stood again suddenly, shocking Billy into leaning back ever so slightly in his chair. "You don't know anythin' about me. You expect me to turn on my brothers' just like that? What the hell makes you think I'd align myself with you?" _Damn it, get a grip Tanner! _He nearly had everything he'd wanted, a place on Billy's team and he was about to blow it because he couldn't reign in his emotions.

But instead of getting angry Billy's smile only widened. "Because you're still here."

Vin just stared back at him until he continued.

"Because I recognise the ambition in you. If you were to help me take Eddie down, you could start your own chapter with whoever wants to stay on. This club's about to have a whole new outlook and you could be living just like me, at the top of the food chain."

For a moment Vin couldn't speak. _Just like me_... He fought to remind himself that they were on different

wavelengths, that Billy had absolutely no idea what was running through his mind. The man was just trying to

manipulate him, just as he would anyone who could help him get what he wanted. He took a deep breath, holding it a moment until his emotional tide had ebbed. He needed to tell Billy exactly what the man wanted to hear. He needed to do his job.

"What's happened to your boys is done Turner, deal with it. This can't be the first time you've lost someone close to you. People die, we move on."

Billy watched Vin's face then and knew without a doubt it was definitely not the first time he'd lost someone, but the kid's sporadically hostile stare was beginning to unsettle him. Maybe he'd been wrong. He'd wanted to make Turner vulnerable so that he'd welcome an alliance with him, but now he wasn't sure he had succeeded.

"Is that what you do? Just move on when someone dies like they were never here, like nothing happened?"

Billy frowned, getting the feeling this had nothing to do with what had happened to his friends, but Vin managed to get a hold of himself before he pushed him any further. Billy was, after all, offering him the chance to get closer to him, so there was only so far he could play it without taking up the offer.

"I help you do this an' I'll have my own death wish courtesy of the Texan boys."

"What I have in mind, they would never prove you had anything to do with it. Anyone who might have had a clue will be dead."

Vin shook his head. "They won't need proof - and I don't give a fuck about power."

"Really? So you don't want power and you don't like people dying... Tell me, what were you planning for Larabee tonight?"

He wasn't sure where Billy was going with the question. "It's wasn't my plan."

"Still, you were going to kill him, blow him to hell and not look back."

Vin shrugged. "He had it comin'."

Billy's smile only widened, as if Vin had just confirmed what he already knew. He stood then, coming around the desk. "You can help me take this club to a new level. We've suffered a loss tonight, but we'll learn from it and move on. I still have other plans in place to get us through until we can build it back up again."

There was a long silence and Vin tried to appear as if he were wavering.

"I've watched you while you've been here. Sugar knows the potential in you, that's why he's held your reins so tight all these years. You know I'm right." Vin didn't respond and Billy went on as if there had been no pause. "You're loyal to no-one, it's all an act for you…"

"If you believe that, why the hell would you want to trust me?"

"I don't," Billy said simply, smiling once more as he put his cigarette out and automatically reached for another, but then even he seemed to realise his lungs needed a break for he put the packet back down after a moments contemplation. "But I know you'd play your part, to get what you want."

"And you think you know what that is?"

Billy poured himself a drink instead. "Oh I definitely know what that is… I can give you the power you want. Power comes with money, plain and simple and I can give you that beyond your wildest dreams. Everyone has their price Turner. You can take it and go, build up your own empire in another state, I really don't give a fuck what you do with it."

Vin grinned a wolfish grin then. "Why not stay here?"

Billy grinned back, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You try to take me over you'll be dead before you spend a cent."

Vin hiked up a brow in defiance but let it go. "What is it, exactly, you have in mind?"

Billy was doing a lot of smiling and Vin sensed it was an unfamiliar expression on the man's face.

"You know what I want. I want you to take Eddie out for me."

Vin was silent, apparently considering the deal as Billy pushed one of the photographs at him and tapped it lightly to make his point. "You're here because I want this done clean... and we both know you know how to do that."

Vin glanced at the photo, this one showing him with his sniper's rifle resting on his shoulder as he squinted at the camera through a haze of rain. He remembered the day the photo was taken, could almost smell the wet earth and the leaves of the trees surrounding him.

"That was a long time ago."

"You're not old enough for it to be a long time ago," Billy said in a flat tone.

"Another lifetime then."

Billy gave Vin his full attention. "I really don't give a fuck why you hid this from the club. I need you to take out Eddie and I want it done professionally."

"He ain't stupid, he knows what you're up to."

"Even so, I know you can be invisible. It was your job. Eddie's had to lay low far too long. He came here cos he's pissed at me, wants to shut me down, but he won't be able to stay out of the spotlight. He'll want the glory himself. He'll open himself up at the funeral to get to me."

Vin shook his head. Billy knew exactly what Eddie had planned. The two men were knowingly heading into battle, both with their own army of loyal men ready to fight. And Vin was smack in the middle of it. He waited another minute, contemplating before finally looking Billy in the eye. "I do this, I want your backing."

Billy flicked a glance at Jake. "You'll have it."

"I'm serious," Vin said. "The Texas boys find out I'm in with you an' my life's worth shit. Hell, Sugar's already -"

"None of them will be a problem much longer, you don't have to worry about them."

Vin looked at him. "How sure can you be of that?" He wanted details, damn it.

"Soon as Eddie goes down the men are going to be like chooks with their heads cut off. Like any chain of command they'll look to Sugar who's next in rank, then probably Charlie. They'll be the first to go down. After that, it'll be like shooting fish in a barrel. All I need you to do is get to Eddie. Ride out after Sugar, wait for the funeral, if the prick actually turns up, I don't care, but you take him out. Then you can get clear. We'll handle the rest."

Holy shit, Vin thought. Both chapters were going to annihilate the other.

Billy looked at Suzy and Vin wondered anew what her role in this was.

"And to sweeten the deal for you, I have a gift for you."

Vin's gaze went to Suzy's furious glare aimed at Billy, but Billy was toying with her still.

"I know you want payback on Levitz. He's head's gonna be filling every tv screen and every front page later today telling all the ignorant citizens of this town about the raid and how he single-handedly took in the haul of a lifetime. The public will look to him and he'll be in his glory... So we need to make sure we hit back, drive some fear back into them."

"What you got in mind?"

"Soon as the funeral mess is over with I'll lend you a few of my boys, you can take care of him any way you want, just keep it clean, I don't want the cops lockin' you up again before you get your job done."

"I know why _I_ want Levitz taken down, but isn't he on yer books?"

"The stupid prick thinks he's outgrown me," was all he said. "Are you telling me you think the man should get away with what he did to you?" When Vin didn't answer he went on. "Every now and then you have to let your enemy's know you hold the power. We took care of Benning –"

"Why him?" Vin took the opportunity to press.

Billy shrugged. "He was making headway, getting too close. Another few months he would have started to make a dent in our shell."

Vin nodded as if he understood why he had to be taken out of the game. "So you planted those photo's and

everyone bought it," he added. It had been all over the news, after all.

Billy shrugged. "It's been done before, but the public don't seem to remember… Larabee was next on my list, but you boys were going to take care of him. He'll be next."

Billy flicked his packet of cigarettes around the surface of the desk with his thumb and forefinger. He was anxious to close the deal and signalling to Vin that he was getting impatient.

Vin stared at him a moment, letting him see how heavy the decision was on him, before he finally tilted his head a fraction to the side in agreeance.

And then Billy smiled. He knew he had him. And he had his way of getting to Eddie and a professional sniper in his own pocket. He was going to start turning things around and he was going to cut the legs out from under the Texan chapter, with one of their own men. All was definitely not lost here.

"First, I need to take care of some other business, so why don't you go on upstairs and Suzy here can help you relax for a bit."

Suzy made a noise of protest but Billy ignored her.

"You want me to take Eddie out I got some plannin' ta do. I don't even know where the hell Sugar went."

"You can head out when you're rested up. I have men following Sugar, I'll call you when they locate him if you don't work it out first. You call me when you've either got a plan, or executed one with success. I don't hear from you before the funeral I'll be coming to ask you why. You wanna work with me I demand loyalty from my men. You fuck this up I'll come after you myself." He waited for Vin to nod. "Good. Now take Suzie and go and do whatever you need to do to have a good sleep."

Suzy looked at Vin but could see nothing in his expression.

"I'll be fine on my own," he told him, getting up with effort.

"All the same," he turned to Suzy, "honey you be good to my new boy here."

Suzy's eyes spat fury as she looked at Billy, not moving.

"I'll put it in words you understand," Billy said, getting up, moving around the desk and taking hold of her arm in a hard grip that made her wince. "Never forget who owns you. Whatever I want from you you'll give, and we both know I've taught you how to give... Now you'll extend those talents to our new friend here, whatever he needs, you'll do for him, you understand me? Cos if you don't, I'll let the whole chapter ride you, one by one."

"Fuck you."

Billy slapped her, knocking her from the chair and Vin felt blood enter his own mouth as he literally had to bite his cheek to hold himself back.

"Not any more. But you're still my property, so I'm going to make sure I get the mileage out of you." He nodded to Jake who moved in and grabbed her arms, dragging her out of the room. Before she had gone Billy spoke to Vin so that she could hear. "She give's you any trouble you let me know."

"Fuck you Billy," she said again.

Billy shook his head as the sounds of Suzy's protests left the room. He walked Vin to the door. "Women. Just when you think they know their place, they go and stab you right in the back. You can't trust them, you remember that. They'll burn you sooner or later, so you best show them who's boss every minute."

Vin looked at him hard, his eyes burning. "I'll remember that."

A short while later Jake came back into Billy's office and shut the door, taking one of the now unoccupied seats. Billy put his feet up on his desk, relaxing for a moment now that he had taken care of business that morning and put his plans into action. If he was disturbed at giving Suzy to Vin he didn't show it.

"She'll give him hell," Jake said, pouring a drink from the bottle on Billy's desk.

Billy said nothing, lost in thought. "Bale here yet?"

Jake avoided his eyes. "We're still locating him."

Billy's fury escalated - and so did his fear. "You get him in here, _now_. I want to take care of him myself." The stupid bastard had nearly cost him Turner with his sloppy work in taking out the Texas boys. Turner had been onto them and that was not meant to have happened. That, combined with losing every single asset they had in storage was more than enough to sign his death warrant.

"You think Sugar's dumb enough to head straight to Eddie?" Jake guided the subject off of Bale. He knew the man was hiding out, his boys couldn't find a trace of him anywhere, but he wouldn't tell Billy that until he was sure he was missing. If he was to run to the police...

Billy looked into his own glass, as if it told him his answer. "One way or another, he'll lead us to him. Or maybe the kid'll contact him and he'll welcome him straight back." They had guards following him and more posted in town ready for him to ride through. Even the idiot Levitz was going to use his resources to track him. That was one reason he hadn't killed the man yet, he was still useful for the time being.

"And you think Turner's not going to run straight back to them and tell them your plan?"

Billy thought he knew Vin Turner, he thought he had him exactly where he wanted him, but he also knew you could never really know what somebody might do when they were backed to a wall.

"I think it's a safe bet they know what we're planning... but if he does, he'll go down with them."

But he didn't think he would. He felt like this was just the beginning. If Turner managed to free him of Eddie, he wanted the kid to stick around. He'd be needing someone with skills watching his back and Jake just wasn't enough now that he was heading up even higher in the world. On the other hand, if the kid betrayed him... well, then he wouldn't live long enough to reach his next birthday.


	25. Break Away

**Part 25. Break Away**

_Tonight my head is spinning  
I need something to pick me up  
I've tried but nothing is working  
I won't stop, I won't say I've had enough_

Tonight I start the fire  
Tonight I break away  
(Get Out Alive – Three Days Grace)

There was a lull in the bad weather. A sliver of sunshine was peeking out from the clouds as if trying to convey a message of optimism despite the fact that the most disruptive funeral in the state's history was going to take place the next day. Not one but three bikers were going to be buried. Rather than move them back down to Texas they were being buried there, in a section of the cemetery that had been bought out by the Devil's Jokers.

Outer streets were to be blocked as the procession rode through, disrupting traffic and costing taxpayers money as police were used to keep the peace during the event. It was as if an esteemed member of the public had died, someone who had contributed positive things to the community. It was hard to believe all of the fuss was for three convicted criminals. The kid from the club who had died had only been seventeen and was being sent home to his parents to be buried. They had not known he was involved with the club and had refused the offer to have his funeral expenses paid for by the Jokers.

All of it was enough to piss Chris Larabee off.

The ATF Captain had returned to his office before lunch, having decided that five hours was enough time wasted sleeping. There was too much to do before the funeral the next day at ten o'clock and they still hadn't located Ezra. Just as worrying was the fact that they had found the bodies of two more Jokers at the facility, both riddled with bullets and he had not heard from Vin since he'd taken off with the other biker. While his team was responsible for the death of the biker Vin had tried to protect and the second had been shot down in front of the truck, nobody knew who had killed the third. He had been shot at close range more than ten times in the chest and head and only forensics would tell if any of the guns taken from the guards would match the bullets.

Buck sat at Chris's desk, in Chris's chair in fact, staring at his friend's back as he watched him looking out of the window. He didn't have to see his face to know that the scowl would still be there. They had been talking about the Southerner and Buck had been unable to sway Chris from his decision to pull the man from the team, _if_ they found him alive. He knew Chris was worried and that the worry was manifesting itself as anger.

Whatever had happened, he could not be found and the longer it went without them hearing from him, the more concerned they became for his safety.

Josiah entered the office with a quick knock and Buck shook his head slightly, indicating that Chris was in a bad mood.

"Sleep well, brothers?" the big man asked cheerfully, despite Bucks warning.

Buck rolled his eyes. It was Josiah's funeral.

Chris turned from the window and looked at Josiah. "You heard from Nathan?"

"He just called from Ezra's apartment. He never went back there last night."

Chris frowned. "So he went straight from here, straight after I ordered him not to leave the building... And Vlahov?"

Josiah shook his head. "No one's seen or heard from him, but it looks like no one was expecting to for a few weeks. He was meant to be heading home to Russia for a trip."

Buck whistled. "So he knew and he was high-tailin' it out of here."

"Yes but did he make it... You got his travel details?" Chris asked.

"JD just found his name booked on a flight out this morning," Josiah looked grave. "He didn't get on it."

Chris's frown deepened. It was looking worse for Ezra by the second. "Well, we find Mitri, we find Ezra. Go out to Mitri's home and take a look around yourself, Josiah. Buck, go with him, see what you can find out."

Buck stood up and stretched his still-tired back, yawning as he did so.

"Need more sleep?" Josiah asked him with a smile.

Finishing what had turned into a massive, loud yawn, Buck grinned back. "Sleep's overrated," he said with a wink, slapping Josiah's back as he left the office.

Chris continued to stare at the window as Josiah followed Buck with a shake of his head. He was staring blankly, seeing nothing beyond the thick glass as he thought about Ezra's situation. If his agent had been taken, and all evidence was pointing to the likelihood that he had, chances were he wouldn't live to tell about it. All he could do for now was concentrate on doing all he could to get him back. After that, he couldn't vouch for the man's health if he _did_ make it back in one piece. Hopefully Tanner would check in soon, if the bikers had Ezra, he would know about it.

..

Vin watched the guard that had led him upstairs walk down the hall and back down the stairwell before turning to the white wood door he had been left at. With as deep a breath as his chest could manage he opened the door and entered, immediately trying to adjust to the brightness of the walls that were being lit by the massive balcony window. The curtains had been fully opened, revealing the surprisingly bright morning outside and it wasn't long before he discovered Suzy, sitting by a writing desk and staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

He moved inside, closing the door behind him and purposefully not locking it. She was watching him, waiting to see what he would do with the free reign Billy had given him, he knew. His eyes found a door leading off to his right and he went to it, happy to find an en suite inside and headed in quickly, the lure of a hot shower more than he could resist.

Suzy listened to the shower start running and heard a few soft grunts come from the room and knew Turner was getting undressed. He had completely ignored her and she didn't know what to make of it.

Ten minutes later, standing under the hot beam of water with his hands resting on the tiles and his head bowed, Vin let the warmth pound onto the back of his neck, not giving Suzy Monroe much thought. In fact, he was trying not to think of anything at all, but that was easier said than done. The water ran down through his now clean hair, pouring along the sides of his grizzled jaw. He didn't even consider shaving, didn't have the energy at that point and there was something unacknowledged within him that understood that the newly forming beard symbolised something.

After long, therapeutic minutes breathing in the thick steam he heard the door open a moment before he felt the cold air let in by the shower door opening. He turned his head, looking at her with curiosity. If she was as pissed off as she had pretended to be, why was she making the first move?

"Somethin' I can do fer you?" he asked her, ignoring her for the moment and lifting his face to the source of the water.

She smiled a cold smile, backing up and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, looking him over boldly. "I'm sure we can work something out."

He finally turned off the water, stepping out and taking the towel that she handed him, drying his hair for a moment before soaking up some of the moisture clinging to his skin and tying the material around his waist, not the least bit bothered by her presence. He was sure he wasn't the first naked man she had seen and after all _she_ had come into _his_ space.

"I sent your clothes downstairs. We have a lady that cleans them."

He frowned at that, not liking the thought that he was stuck without clothes. He hadn't bothered to search his saddle bags for some for he knew he had already had his cleanest clothes on. He was long overdue to do some laundry.

"She'll have them back within the hour," she said, seeing his expression.

He gave her a hard look, then moved out of the bathroom, heading straight for the bed and noticing his jacket resting over the back of a chair.

"Feel free to hang around," he told her, "Just don't wake me up."

He laid down on his back, putting his hands up underneath his pillow and immediately closing his eyes.

"He'll kill you, you know."

He didn't bother opening his eyes.

Seeing that he wasn't going to engage in conversation with her she went on. "You don't give him what he wants and he'll kill you."

Seeing that she wasn't going to leave him alone until he answered her he leant up on his elbows and looked at her.

"Why do you care?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "I don't."

Vin looked at her a moment. "You hate him," he said simply.

She looked at him, surprised by the hint of an empathetic tone. "Why do you care?" she threw back.

He grinned then. "I don't."

Despite herself her lips twitched, but it was fleeting.

Seeing that she was silent again, he laid back down.

"I just don't think you deserve to die over this."

He was silent a moment before he opened his eyes and looked up at the white expanse of ceiling, having considered something. "He sent you to spy on me..." he said with humour in his voice.

She didn't appreciate him patronising her and became angry, getting up and walking to the window, as if it would allow her escape if she needed it. "I'm not a slave to run his errands."

Vin propped himself up again on his elbows and studied her profile. He'd only been half kidding, but his words had set something off in her. "He _did_ didn't he..." he shook his head, not sure but wanting to bluff her to see what her game was. "It was all an act, the whole thing."

"You don't have a clue," she said angrily.

"And there I was, feelin' sorry for ya back there... an' you were playin' us the whole time. Ya almost got Sugar killed with yer games, would that'a been worth it?"

She turned to him and stepped forward and Vin could see she was furious. "I would never do that to him! You think I like being slapped around like... like his -"

"Slave?" he supplied.

Her mouth stayed open but she said nothing, knowing he was right. She _was_ his slave, his whore, and had been for a long, long time.

"Tell me why he sent you to me then."

She stared at him in silence and after a long moment Vin leant back on the bed, resuming his former pose and closing his eyes. "Or not," he said, signalling to her that he didn't care either way.

She paced for a moment, unable to relax and unsure how to proceed. This man was different to any she had ever met. He just didn't fit the profile of a club member.

"I can get you out of here..." she said, her voice almost a whisper.

Vin didn't bother opening his eyes, sensing this woman wasn't used to men ignoring her. "Is that so?" He was out of there anyway, on Billy's orders, but he decided to humour her, let her think she had something to bargain with.

She nodded, chewing on a nail, clearly a nervous habit and it told Vin how anxious she was right then. That and the quick glances she keep making towards the door. "I can get you out and you can warn Eddie. There's a way out of this place just like there is at that warehouse you went to. I can show it to you."

He sat up all the way again with a groan of effort. "And why would ya do that?" he asked, rubbing his side idly to ease the pain he felt there.

"Because you'll have to take me with you."

His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. Suzy Monroe was a complex woman alright. The problem was, just who was she really looking out for, Billy or herself. "An' why would _I_ do that?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Because once he thinks I've been with you, he'll be done with me. He's showing me he has no use for me any more because he thinks I've already betrayed him with Sugar. If you don't help me out of here, he'll kill me."

She couldn't believe she had told him everything, that she had just asked for this man's help. What was he to her? Since when had she ever turned to anyone? She looked away from him and faced the window once more, not wanting him to see that she was starting to cry, something else she had not done in a long, long time.

Vin studied her back a long moment, knowing she was crying and that she would not appreciate his acknowledging her tears. He had been going to say that his loyalty now lay with Billy, that he was not about to betray him and she should find someone else to play games with, but then she had turned away and he knew with every instinct he had that she had just reached out to him in desperation. She could still be a brilliant actress, but his heart told him that this was probably the first time she had ever asked anyone for help in her life.

..

Chris looked up as JD entered his office grinning a triumphant grin.

"Eat a canary, kid?"

JD's grin dropped. "No… but I just watched the security tape from Vlahov's home they sent over." He held it up in his hand. "I think you might want to watch this."

Chris followed him to the meeting room and waited as JD put the tape in and forwarded through an image of a front doorway until a figure entered the frame. _Ezra_.

"Son of a bitch," Chris said out loud, even though it wasn't a surprise.

"Yeah, but wait." JD let Vlahov come to the door and watched as both men went inside, then forwarded a while to more men reaching the doorway and stopped.

Chris watched in silence as the well dressed men knocked. They weren't bikers, but they definitely weren't giving away bibles. A woman answered the door this time and it was then that several bikers rushed the door and after a moment both Ezra and Vlahov were dragged out with them.

Chris's cell phone rang right at that moment.

"It's Buck. We haven't found anything, but there was definitely a struggle here."

"JD's got the tape here, Ezra was definitely there. Some biker's showed up. We need to find out where they took them. There was a woman. She might have been left behind there somewhere, call in some support and search the place fully."

"Will do. It'll piss these forensics' nerds off even more than they already are."

Chris looked back at the screen as he hung up, again seeing a static image of the closed front doors to Vlahov's house. That woman might know something and it may just be the only chance Ezra had – that and Vin, wherever the hell he was at that moment.

..

"What happened with you an' Sugar?"

Suzy used the heel of her hand to impatiently wipe away the tears that had spilled without her consent and turned back, knowing she had failed to hide her despair when she saw his face had softened.

"I don't need your pity," she said, angry once more.

Vin blinked. _Women_. He shook his head and gingerly lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes. "Fine," he said and proceeded to try and forget she was there. But that was easier said than done as he once more heard her pacing by the window.

"Tonight he's going to get all of his boys together and he's going to tell them his grand plans and anyone who doesn't like it can leave," she said in a hushed voice, obviously conscious of being overheard.

"Sounds fair," Vin murmured, pretending disinterest, she was trying to lure him in by sharing information.

"He doesn't intend for any of the Texas boys to make it back to Texas. He really will take them all out."

Vin's brow rose, but still he kept his eyes closed. "Ambitious," he said as if impressed_. _Looks like you're on top of everythin' here, why you botherin' me?"

Her grin fell and she scowled again. Had she been wrong about him? "If he finds Eddie before tomorrow, he'll have no use for you either."

"Guess he better not find him then."

"You're times' limited anyway. You think you can get in with Billy you're wrong. His alliances were established back before you were born. He'll never be anything more to you than a man who uses you as long as he needs you, then he'll get rid of you to make way for better things."

"So you're telling me it'd be better if I just cut my losses and ran now?"

She didn't blink.

"You realise there's nowhere you could run that he wouldn't find you," he said, his face serious as he directed the focus back to her.

Still she looked at him, clearly not knowing how to proceed. He was shocked when her voice broke on her next words. "I told you, he's going to kill me... He'll pass me around the men until I either kill myself or he does it for me." She was tough as nails, had had to be to survive all these years, but her voice broke on the last word.

He studied her face, impressed that she did not look away this time despite the lone tear that fell down her cheek.

"I'm not here to spy on you. I'm here to service you."

Vin hiked an eyebrow at that, but still he waited.

She looked down a moment and when her eyes came back up, he knew he believed her. Her face was too full of sadness and despair to ignore. "I don't care about his plans. I don't care who lives or dies tomorrow. I just want to leave here and I'll do whatever it takes to get as far away as possible."

Now his eyes darkened, he knew what she was offering, but he also knew how desperate she was. He put himself in her shoes, something he was too adept at doing for it had often cost him. He had an understanding of his fellow man that often got in the way of business. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"Tell you what, you let me sleep for an hour, then we'll talk escape plans. Right now, I can't think past the need to close my eyes," he said honestly.

She studied his face and after a moment nodded, heading out to the balcony and softly closing the door behind her, giving him his space.

He watched the curtain fall back into place and stared at her silhouette through the material, thinking over her words. He'd thought he had endeared himself to Billy and that things were going well, but now she had cast doubts in his mind. Had his personal agenda clouded his judgement, blinding him to the fact that Billy was only using him for backup in case he needed him? He didn't care about Billy's plans for him in the future, they were irrelevant considering he didn't want the bastard to live that long, but the fact that he might outlive his own use disturbed him.

..

The morning was getting on when Buck finally swore in frustration. He and Josiah were still searching for any sign of the woman at Mitri's house, but were beginning to lose hope as the day progressed. They had been over the house countless times with nothing new to report. Buck was just about tell Josiah he was ready to call it quits when the large man called to him in a too-calm voice. Following the sound of his voice, Buck joined the older agent in a large service kitchen, raising a brow when he saw the wide spread of Josiah's shoulders leaning inside an open freezer door.

"Hungry Josiah?" he inquired with a grin, "I was just about to suggest we go get some lunch, there's a great

steakhouse up the road, but if you want to snack here..." He didn't expect his partner to simply stand aside and hold the door open in silence, allowing him to see past his frame to the frosty contents within.

He stepped forward with a slight frown before seeing what Josiah had found. "Jesus Christ…"

..

A short while later, Chris's phone rang just as Murphy walked into his office, his arm in a sling to support his shoulder. He saw by the number on the display that it was Buck again.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" he questioned the injured man.

Murphy smiled. "When we're this close? Not on your life."

Chris shook his head as he answered the phone. "Find her?"

"In a manner of speaking…"

Chris scowled. "Well, does she know anything? Be cool with her, Buck, she's our only lead right now."

Buck winced at Chris's words, shaking his head as he peered closer at the severed head staring back at him from the top shelf of the upright freezer. "Oh I'll be cool with her alright…" he said grimly. "Josiah just found her... in the freezer," he said plainly, before looking over at Josiah through glass sliding doors, seeing he was still standing motionless outside, staring into space.

Chris tilted his head back to the ceiling and let out a hiss of frustration. "Son of a bitch."

Buck couldn't seem to look away from the woman's sightless eyes as he spoke. "Yeah... we'll stick around for a bit to see what forensics can tell us." Finally he tore his eyes away from the gruesome sight. "I tell you one thing, Chris. These motherfuckers aren't getting away with this shit," he vowed.

"You ok?" Chris asked his old friend, hearing the anger in his voice.

Buck moved out to share some air with Josiah and get away from that freezer. "Yeah… but we'd better find Ezra soon, Pard." His voice took on a strained note. "She didn't fit in there in one piece."

Chris ran a hand over his eyes, Buck's words conjuring a gruesome picture in his mind.

"If they can do this to a woman…"

"Just do what you can, Buck, ok?"

He hung up and looked at Murphy. "You heard my agent's missing?"

Murphy nodded. "One of the reasons I came in."

Chris nodded in return. "We found a tape of Vlahov's house, the club got them both. There was a woman on the tape, my men just found her dead - cut up in her own freezer."

Murphy scowled as Chris's cell phone rang.

"Larabee," the Captain said gruffly, beyond expecting good news.

"It's Josh, Chris. You're not going to believe this, the guy who runs the Empire facility just turned himself in to us."

Chris's spine shot up and he looked at Murphy. "What? _Why_?"

"He says if he didn't get some protection he'd be as good as dead. He knows the club won't let him live after tonight."

Chris felt a grin start and was helpless to stop it. "He's willing to co-operate?"

"More than willing. In fact, if we can guarantee him protection he says he'll give us everything we need to shut the Denver chapter down for good. He's kept records of everything, including concrete evidence that shows that the president himself was the boss behind it all, from the ground up. He wants us to put him somewhere safe with full security watching his back and after that he says he'll sing until the cows come home. He knows everything about them Chris, he's head of the whole operation here in the city."

"Then we'd better get him somewhere safe and hear what he has to say. I've got Douglas Murphy with me, I think he'll want to handle him personally. And Josh, no-one else can know about this."

"Understood."

When Chris hung up from the call he was still smiling. This was no small matter, this could turn the entire operation on it's head. It could very well mean the end of the Devil's Jokers in their state. Thinking ahead, he realised that once they had enough to make some arrests, they would need to get into the headquarters and for that, they would need a warrant. He turned to look at Murphy, who had been listening intently. He could get the warrant moving in the meantime, any time they could save the better. He explained the situation to him and knew the man was just as excited as he was by the news.

"This is too good to be true."

"Let's hope not," Chris said.

Murphy stood up, wincing slightly. "I'll speak to Travis now. I don't think it's unrealistic to aim for tomorrow to storm the complex."

Chris blinked. "You think we can get everything together by then? Don't get me wrong, I'd head over there right now if I could, but I know as well as you do the amount of bureaucratic tape we're going to have to cross to make it happen that fast."

"It'll be an easier sell when I explain that most of the men won't be there, they'll be at the funeral, but you'll want to give Tanner the heads up."

Chris watched him leave, thinking hard. If things really did happen that fast, they would have to make sure that Tanner was protected. He could only imagine how pissed off his undercover agent would be, but as long as the club was effectively closed down he really had nothing to complain about. He should be happy to return to a normal life and he intended to make sure that's exactly what the man did, right there as part of Team 7.

When a shadow fell over his door Chris looked up slowly, thinking Murphy had returned, perhaps forgetting

something. Next moment he was out of his chair, his face shocked. Ezra was standing at his door, flanked by two uniformed officers.

"Captain Larabee," one of them addressed him, then nodded at Ezra. "We picked him up just off the highway exit on our routine patrol. He insisted we come straight to you as a matter of utmost urgency. He convinced us not to radio it in..."

Chris ignored the office for the moment, still shocked that Ezra had wandered into his office of his own will. He also realised that there was a small crowd behind him. Murphy, having obviously seen Ezra and his escort, had doubled back and JD, too, was ogling the scene.

"Thank you," Chris told the officer's. "Can you wait outside for just a moment?"

They nodded and stepped back to wait outside. "Stop blocking my doorway, all of you, and get in here." As

JD turned to leave, Chris stopped him. "You too, JD."

Pleasantly surprised to be included, JD followed Ezra and Murphy into Chris's office.

Ten minutes later Murphy eyed Larabee's still purple face and knew that it was time to intervene or Ezra Standish was likely to drop dead with exhaustion before his Captain was finished with him. He had to admit, Chris had listened with enough patience to impress a monk as Ezra had told them his tale of defiance, kidnapping, murder and escape. As the monologue ended, however, and the southerner's drawl faded into the thick silence, the famous Larabee cloud had descended. His voice and body had literally shaken with his anger, which Murphy knew was a mixture of rage, fear and relief that his agent had come out of it all alive.

"Chris." He cleared his voice when the Captain's steely gaze failed to leave Ezra. "_Chris_."

Chris spared Murphy a glance before resuming his death-glare at Ezra, still trying to decide whether to finish what the biker's had started.

"We have some solid information here. We need to act on it. This isn't a totally bad thing."

That got his attention. "Explain to me how one of my men disobeying a direct order, getting himself beaten up and forcing another one of my men to risk his own cover to save his worthless hide can be a _good_ thing."

Ezra looked away at that. He knew Larabee was right there. If it wasn't for Tanner, he probably wouldn't have made it out alive, as much as he hated to admit it, he had truly felt that he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of that one. Not considering the cold blooded way Billy had executed Mitri.

"He saw Mitri executed and that there is evidence there of the club killing Mitri's wife. He saw the layout of the building and we don't have anyone else who can give us a first hand account like he can, unless we can get to Vin. He can help blueprint it for us."

Chris turned his full attention to Murphy, seeing the excitement in the man's eyes.

"If nothing else good comes of his actions, at least his information was worthwhile."

Chris looked at Ezra now. "You said Vin accused the President of killing the men he was with?"

Ezra nodded. "Yes, but he was playing it very well. If I didn't know his real intentions I would think they had him right where they wanted him. From what I could see, from the conversation they had, Billy did arrange to have the men killed, so that Vin would have no choice but to join him. Of course, that's exactly what Tanner wants. He played the reluctant recruit well, but his anger was real enough."

Ezra was understating the anger he'd seen in Vin's face. He had caught glimpses of pure rage thrown Billy's way and at the Vice President as well. He had played his part well, but it was costing him dearly. Ezra recognised the cloud of revenge that darkened the man's eyes. After all, he saw it in the mirror enough every single day.

"And the other man, Sugar? The Enforcer that stayed with Vin at the hospital? You think he's going to be trouble for Vin now that he's stayed behind?"

"They threatened the woman to make him leave. I think they knew that he would get Vin to go too if they didn't get him out of there."

Chris shook his head, thinking out loud. "He's ostracising himself from his own chapter, from the men he knows."

"That's the only way to get the President's trust," Murphy said. "Billy will think he has Tanner, that he will want his protection now and that he'll be a willing recruit."

Chris couldn't help the sense of foreboding that news brought him. He turned to Ezra. "I want you to get looked over. JD, call Buck and Josiah and tell them to head straight back here for a meeting. Make sure you tell Buck not to stop to eat - just head straight back in on my order. And ask the officers to come back in." JD left and Chris returned his attention to Ezra. "When you get back, I need to know every detail about the complex and the entrance in and out. Then you're going home, where you'll stay until I decide if I want you back on my team."

At Ezra's expression he held up a hand to silence him. They waited in the silence until the two policemen returned and Chris stood up. "Boys, I have another job for you. I'll inform your captain personally that I have commandeered you a little longer and let him know that you picked up one of my men." He watched them look at each other a little uncertainly. "I need you to escort Agent Standish down to the emergency room for me and then return him to me."

He looked at the scowling Ezra now. "Don't underestimate him. If he moves so much as a meter out of your

range, I give you express permission to use any force you deem necessary to bring him into line."

The men nodded and finally Chris had his office to himself as everyone cleared out. As much as he would never admit it to Standish, the man had managed to gather some useful information, not in the least of that the fact that Vin had made it back alright, if not the worse for wear. Ezra had thought he had been trying to ingratiate himself with the club leader, a man that Ezra considered to be completely unhinged. The man's plans to start his own club and patch over everyone wanting to join him were disturbing and the cold blooded murder of Mitri and his wife more disturbing still. The man had to be stopped before anyone else got hurt.

..

Suzy tried to wake Vin precisely one hour later by noisily slamming the balcony door, but after several more attempts realised that nothing short of a full scale earthquake was going to rouse him. She decided perhaps it were better if he got the rest he so obviously needed and so let him sleep a few more hours, at which time her impatience overtook her and she returned to her room, prepared to shake him forcefully if need be. Slamming the door behind her she watched in silence as he became instantly alert, his hand automatically reaching down toward his ankle where he would presumably conceal a weapon, were he not as naked as the day he was born besides the towel tucked loosely around his lean waist.

When he looked at her he realised she'd been thinking the entire time he'd been asleep and there was a new

determination lighting her eyes. When she went to speak, however, he merely held up a hand, snatching his clothes that had been laid over a chair, cleaned and dried, and heading for the bathroom. No amount of cold water on his face could wash away the lure of the sleep he still desperately needed, the few hours he'd managed had barely taken the edge of his exhaustion. Once dressed though he had to admit he was grateful for the fresh clothing. He returned and went to the window, feeling the warmth of the room as the sunlight streamed inside. It was a sight he had yet to see since he'd arrived in the state.

There were a few men out the front of the building, two were working inside the hood of a car and a few others were standing around a bike, the engine idle but loud in the blanketed quiet of the early morning. He knew that everyone would soon be preparing to ride out for the funeral. In another week there would be another funeral for Bruce, Cheese, Ivan and Rizzo. That would be in Texas, he was sure of that.

Suzy watched his profile against the window and realised he was deep in thought, but was not willing to waste any more time. She had thought it through, he was her best chance out of here and she was ready to go.

"Where's the entrance to this underground exit you told me about?"

She was surprised he had spoken and watched as he turned to face her.

"I'm not giving away my hand that easy," she scoffed. "What's to stop you just leaving without me?"

"What's to stop you leaving on your own? You know your way."

"I wouldn't get a mile up that road alone. I sit behind a man and I have a chance of making it out."

He hadn't considered that. You didn't see too many women riding around the complex. In fact, you didn't see any at all. They were strictly for the pillion.

"Alright," he conceded. "What's your plan?"

She tried to keep the hope from her voice, but she was beginning to think he was going to help her. "Soon everyone will be taking off for the funeral, there will hardly be anyone here for the whole afternoon. The wake is going to be held at the bar in town, so this is our best chance."

Vin gave a short laugh. "And that's it? That's what you've been workin' on?"

She frowned, her temper again rising. "What else do you need to know?"

"Women," he shook his head. "You always gotta complicate things."

Suzy's frown was so deep Vin thought it might prematurely line her forehead.

"You got a better way for me to leave?"

Vin shrugged. "If you can pack your stuff in the next ten minutes you can ride on out the front gate with me. Guess you weren't payin' too good attention cos I'm leavin' anyway. Billy's _orderin_' me ta leave. You wanna ride outta here then one, you gotta tell me all about this escape route of yours, then you go tell your man I want you to ride with me back to town. Tell him you wanna buy a new dress or somethin' for the funeral.. I don't know, make up some female thing. I'll get you that far, what you do from there is your problem."

Suzy looked at him for the longest time, huffed out air from her nose. "Huh."

Vin grinned. Yep, women.

..

As Suzy was packing, Chris Larabee and his team were gathered in their makeshift boardroom, really a large, empty office but located adjacent to the small kitchen so all in all considered a convenient spot to meet. They had just been briefed from one of Murphy's agents that the roadblocks were being set up coming into the city limits. With the funeral now just under 24 hours away, they wanted to check every rider that headed into town and particularly every rider coming in from the headquarters.

Beyond that, they were setting up patrols for the actual event. The club had submitted an itinerary and a route for their procession and even if they hadn't requested it, the state police would have provided traffic assistance at major crossings, if only for the safety of the public that would get in the way or caught between the riders. It had been decided to close the back road they were taking into the cemetery, as there was other entrances and the road was narrow. There would also be no parking allowed on the street, with other parking arranged for residents.

All in all, it was a major headache for everyone involved. Right then they were going over a map of the area surrounding the headquarters and any possible routes that would need checkpoints. They were relieved to see there weren't many options and it all came down to two roads that were passable with a motorcycle. Others were little more than dirt tracks leading through properties. Of the two roads, one was a far shorter path. They were going to cover them both, for if word of the block was passed back, riders would start taking the longer road in the chance of avoiding them.

"There's a roadhouse here," Nathan said, looking at the map. "I've passed it before. Might be the best spot to set up a base."

"We can run the checkpoint and then base a team there ready for the raid tomorrow," Buck agreed.

Chris looked at the black square on the map, indicating the diner. It was about an hour from the headquarters, over halfway from the city. His phone rang and he saw that it was Murphy.

"Larabee. Tell me he squealed like a pig."

Murphy chuckled down the line. He'd been all set to interrogate Bale and turned out the man had needed no prompting at all. "And more. He's kept records of conversations, documents, video evidence, you name it. Travis will sign the warrant, I've just got to go in and brief him now."

Chris smiled. It was coming together. "Great. How do you want to handle this? Do you still want your team to head it up?"

"I think it's a safe bet Tanner will be at the funeral."

Chris nodded, although Murphy couldn't see him. "Exactly. I think he'll try to make contact and I want to be ready to give him backup."

"Then I'll be handling the headquarters side of things. We want the place to empty out as much as we can before we go in, so I still think it's best we wait for tomorrow. I'm meeting with SWAT in an hour."

"Okay, let me know what your plan is, we'll talk after that."

Buck watched him hang up. "He gonna get the warrant?"

"Says it's a sure thing."

They all grinned, Josiah slapping one massive hand on the table so that JD nearly spilt his coffee when he jumped.

"We're gonna put these boys out of business," the ex-preacher said.

"You really think Vin will come in?" Buck asked.

Chris thought about that. "I'm not sure he even could at this point... but I think I might have a way to check in on him. He's going to need to get past the checkpoints right? And right now he should be at the headquarters, so the most likely road he'll take back into the city will go right through here," he pointed to the roadhouse on the map.

Buck's frown became a grin a moment later. "I think maybe we should oversee the base set-up at the roadhouse ourselves."

Chris grinned in response. "Just what I was thinking."

..

Nettie Wells knew that possessions and material things were not what was important in life. Still, as she raked a final run through the fresh wood chips surrounding her petunias she felt satisfied that her life's worth was going to be preserved for Casey. Casey was everything good in her world - the only good thing she had left. And thanks to the unprecedented heroics of a biker, of all people, they were both going to have a chance to enjoy the time they had together.

She was just thinking about whether to put some water on the garden bed when Casey caught her eye, pointing up the curved bend that led back out to the highway.

"Someone's comin'."

Squinting into the noon sun that was a little too bright and cheerful for Nettie's liking that day, the old woman indeed saw a car approaching, followed by another, then another, then another...

Casey came and stood beside her and they both frowned at the suddenly endless stream of cars, with the odd van thrown in between them, that were now heading into the gravel car park.

..

Chris hopped out of his car into the bright early afternoon sunlight, squinting through his sunglasses to make out the two women staring back at them from the tranquil setting of a fledgling flower garden. He didn't blame them for staring. He was sure that the long convoy of vehicles was daunting enough without having it pull right up and start emptying government agents at your feet.

"You boys lost?"

Chris felt his lip pull at the bravado the old woman showed in the face of the potential threat, but he correctly sensed that he dared not appear to mock her as he approached her small frame.

"No ma'am."

Nettie cocked her wisened face at the man that had called her 'ma'am'. He was the second person to do so in as many days.

"Then you need somethin'?" She gestured towards the diner. "Cos I don't have much to offer you right now, I'm opening a little late today."

Chris's eyes ran over the freshly raked garden as he approached her and put out his hand in greeting. "I'm Chris Larabee, Captain of the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms here in Denver."

Nettie gave him a measuring look before taking his hand in her own. "Nettie Wells."

Again Chris looked over at the diner. "You live here, too?" The building looked to be larger than merely a diner.

"Yep, me and my niece Casey here."

Chris nodded to Casey, who was staring behind him with open curiosity. A glance behind him told him that JD, just as curious it seemed, had left the car and walked halfway towards them.

"What brings you out this way?" Nettie asked.

"Well..." Chris started, still having no idea where this woman's affiliations lay, if she had any. "We're in need of a place to set up a base of operations to check traffic heading in and out of the city by this road and thought this might be the perfect spot."

Again Nettie weighed his words against his expression before surprising him with her forthright reply. "If you're trying to avoid trouble by searchin' the boys headin' to the funeral you've already missed a fair lot of them, a whole pile of riders came past yesterday. Mostly Texas plates."

Chris nodded, hoping that Vin hadn't been one of them. "We're also hoping to catch them on the way back in."

"What would be the point in doing that?" Before he could speak again she went on, thinking out loud. "Less you want to stall them on their way back in..."

Chris tried to keep his face neutral, but the old woman was very astute.

"Which means you're going into their property..." Coming to the conclusion that this last statement was true, she went on. "Does this mean you're finally getting off your butts and moving in to shut those bastards down for good? You wanna do that you better have something on them that'll actually stick, cos it's been tried before."

Chris frowned, but there was a quirk to his mouth. "Are you an interrogator by trade, Mrs Wells?"

Crinkles appeared around Nettie's eyes as she watched the man's expression. She knew he was not mocking her, rather he seemed impressed by her skills at deduction. "I'm right then? You're heading in there?"

Chris gave her a long look. The woman had no means of communication on her that he could see and they were going to watch her closely. He gave a slow nod. "We are."

She gave a low whistle. "Then you must have something big. No-ones ever actually moved in on the place with this large a posse." She nodded at the cars.

"Well we're not all going in. Like I said, some will need to stay here, to catch any strays heading back in, or out."

She frowned a little then, thinking of Vin. He hadn't ridden back out since he'd left that morning, or at least, he hadn't stopped if he had. She thought he would most likely have had to take a break to sleep, given the state he was in. "You're not just going to go in there gun's blazing are you?"

Again Chris shook his head. "No ma'am. These days that would make _us_ the bad guys."

She made a noise very much like 'hmmph' and her eyes flicked to her petunias for a moment. "These days people get away with murder... you know, not all of them are bad."

"I'm sure that's true, but for the purpose of the exercise today, we'll be assuming that any man living out there as a biker has potentially adopted the illegal practices of the club. We'll let the law sort out the rest later."

Nettie was worried now and Chris raised a brow. "You're worried about them?"

"No," she said quickly. "Well... just one of them, met him only this week, but he helped me out of a jam. He came by this mornin', in a heap'a trouble himself and... well, I just don't think he's the kind to be doin' illegal things."

Chris tilted his head slightly. "Looks can be deceiving. These men don't join this club to be good citizens."

"I know that, but this one was different. He was in bad shape last night when he came by and still he tried to help me with a... problem. He helped Casey an' me even though he could barely stand himself upright."

Chris's brain caught up with the clues in her words. "He didn't happen to give you his name, did he?"

Nettie hesitated.

Sensing her indecision Chris raised a brow, keeping his voice low. "Was his name Vin?" Her eyes widened ever so slightly and he had his answer. "And he went back out to the complex after stopping here?"

She nodded. "I thought he was going to fall right off his bike he was so exhausted. He looked like he'd gone ten rounds when he left here and his knee was twice the size it should be. How do you know him?"

"Let's just say we may have a common interest to protect him."

Studying his face once more Nettie seemed to come to a decision and gave a short nod. "I'll hold you to that."

Chris nodded in return and turned back towards the cars. Josiah, Nathan, JD and Buck were all approaching him now.

Nettie eyed all of the people exiting vehicles. "Looks like you've brought everything you've got."

Chris just grinned. "Not yet we haven't, but by this time tomorrow even the sky will be busy."

Nettie's eyes sharpened on him as Chris thought about the plan Murphy had arranged to enter and seize the property. He was taking a virtual army of men with him, but Chris agreed it was a necessary potential overkill. They were not going to take any chances and risk a shoot-out like the warehouse had resulted in. This time, any protesting bikers would not stand a chance.

Their primary objectives were to arrest Billy - and they had yet to ascertain if he would be at the funeral or not – and to take over control of the compound. From there they would be searching for anything that supported the evidence Bale had given them. If all charges against Billy and his men stuck, then the property would never be occupied by a Devil's Joker again.

..

Vin let Suzy handle Billy as he went down and checked his bike, making sure everything was in working order before taking it around to the fuel pumps to fill her up. He was surprised when Jake met him out there.

Vin secured the cap on his tank and put the fuel nozzle back in its holster, deliberately taking his time.

"You know, Billy thinks you're gonna be a good asset."

Vin assessed Jake's neutral expression carefully. "But not you."

After a long pause where Jake looked like he wanted to say more, the older man simply nodded. "Doesn't matter what I think, but I'll tell you something for nothing. You betray him, you betray the trust he's giving you, there'll be nowhere you can go that I won't find you. And that's a sure thing."

Vin grinned. "Guess I better not do that then."

Jake shook his head as Vin simply walked off. The kid had balls, he'd give him that.

..

He met up with Suzie ten minutes later, her ten minute deadline turning into half an hour but he had to give her credit, whatever she'd considered necessary to bring she'd managed to stuff in a single pack. When he'd ridden back around to the font of the building Billy was standing with her and the President stepped forward as Vin rolled to a stop and cut his engine, not dismounting.

"Suzy's riding with you. Drop her at the bar."

Vin looked at Suzy's carefully neutral face and back to Billy.

"That a problem?"

"No," Vin said simply. "You ready to go?" he asked her, "I want to use the daylight I got left."

Billy nodded to her. "Go." After she'd settled in behind Vin, Billy stepped forward and grabbed the handlebars. "I'll be expecting a call from you by morning, unless you hear from me first."

Vin just gave a short nod and Suzy stepped forward, getting on behind Vin without looking back.

"See you soon too darlin'." When she didn't look at him Billy just gave a low laugh and watched them ride off down the long drive.

Jake stepped out from the large doors and joined him as the noise of the bike faded in the distance.

"You think he's gonna come through?"

Billy looked at him. "Do you?"

Jake shrugged. "Hope so, for his sake. The kids kinda growin' on me."

Billy looked thoughtful. "Yeah," was all he said, looking out over and beyond the driveway even though he could no longer see anything. He hoped to hell the kid came through, cos if not, he really didn't want to have to kill him and waste the skills he brought to them.

..

Chris ensured the base was set up properly and the surrounding checkpoints in place before heading inside to the diner. The old woman was being extremely accommodating and together with her niece had helped them out wherever she could. They hadn't intruded on her inside the building, but had chosen to set up barricades on the road and some roadside shelter against the sun. A large mobile police unit was the base of their communications, the massive truck offering more comforts than they could need.

He couldn't explain it, but he knew Nettie Wells could be trusted, and his gut had never failed him before. He found her behind the counter, the diner completely empty.

"Can I help you with something else?"

Chris shook his head, taking a seat after a moment's hesitation at the red, round swivel stool at the counter. "No ma'am, you've done more than enough."

She took in his hesitance and smirked. "Something you wanna know about that agent of yours then?"

Chris's eyes widened. "I'm sorry?"

Nettie shrugged. "I'm too old for mincin' words Captain Larabee. I don't have much to offer about the man you sent into that nest, but no harm in you askin'."

Chris just stared at her a moment and then a smile graced his lips. "He told you?"

Nettie laughed. "Hell no. But that boy had way too much decency to be one of them... and the way you asked about him, knew his name... I ain't stupid."

Chris nodded. "Okay." He was quiet a moment. "How was he?"

"Beat to hell."

Chris snorted. "You know, if I saw him _without_ bruises and blood covering every inch of him I probably wouldn't recognise him."

"I patched him up best I could. He had a nasty gash on the side'a his head and I strapped that bum knee of his."

"Thank you," Chris told her sincerely. "He's lucky he ran into you. What did he come by here for this morning?"

She hesitated only a second before obviously deciding she wasn't betraying Vin in telling him.

"He wanted to borrow my computer."

"For..?" Chris prompted when she stopped short.

"He wanted to watch something from a little player thing he had on him."

"And what was it that he watched?" Damn it was like pulling teeth!

"He rode through here with four other boys yesterday. When he came back it was just him and a Scottish fella. I saw a bit of the video where one of the guys was lying on a concrete floor, dead and another guy was shot to death next to him. It was two of the guys that were in here. The video showed Vin as well, he was being carried inside, out cold."

"Who shot them?" He hadn't heard back from forensics yet.

"Looked like some kind of guard, in a uniform."

"Son of a bitch," Chris swore under his breath.

"The big guy, he looked real sad, could hardly talk through his grief. Think he was in shock. Vin just looked... determined. He was angry and upset, but he wanted to get back out there. I'm not surprised that he's on the right side of the law, not one bit but I tell you somethin' for nothin', that boy's in too deep with those outlaws. Looks like he has been a long while. For a moment there, I could swear he just looked a little lost. I'm thinkin' livin' with those animals like that's gotta turn a man around some. Lines would get blurred after a while..."

Chris looked at her, seeing her waiting for a response. Somehow, Tanner had gotten to her. She wanted to make sure he was going to be alright.

"He has us, Ma'am. We're his team. We'll get him out of there in one piece and make sure he stays that way."

Nettie nodded and repeated her earlier words. "I'll hold you to it."

..

Team Seven waited another half an hour before thinking they should probably head back. Nobody had come through the checkpoint in the two hours they'd been there and Chris was starting to question whether Vin might wait until the next morning. He'd been in serious need of sleep, he might have taken it while he could get it, or something might have happened to him once he'd returned there... He was just about to tell Buck they would head back when the noise of a lone bike was heard approaching from the direction of the compound.

"Finally," Buck said with a grin, "let's see what our net catches." He clapped his hands as he moved away from the car he'd been slowly heading towards, having sensed that Chris was about to call it a day.

They watched as a bike appeared, still some distance away and were not surprised when it drew to a slow stop, the engine idling menacingly. They knew there was no avoiding their road block. There was no other way into town.

..

Vin put his boots to the ground and balanced Suzy's weight behind him as she shifted in the seat.

"You can't go through?" she asked him over the noise of the bike.

He was a little pissed off. He hadn't noticed the roadblock until it was too late and now they had seen him too. They were going to detained him and there was no way around it.

"Not without tossing half the stuff out my bags," he admitted. He knew they were going to search his bike, probable cause be damned and there was no-one there to back him up. Eyeing what looked like a massive operation under way he couldn't help but fear that Nettie had been found with Royal's dead corpse. His mind whirled with possibilities and probable outcomes.

"Looks like the big guns," Suzy commented. "Not regular police. Maybe FBI?"

He studied the cars. _Not FBI..._ "They're settin' up a base." It looked like they were going to raid the compound when it was down on numbers with everyone at the funeral... which meant they had enough to get a warrant to search it. So possibly they had Bale.

"What are you going to do?''

His gaze stayed on the large group of people and vehicles. "Can't go over, can't go under..." he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothin'. I ain't got much choice. Can't turn back now."

"What about you? They're gonna search you."

Vin couldn't make out faces from the distance but his gaze paused on the figure of a giant of a man that seemed to dwarf the other men gathered around. He grinned. "They won't hold me," he told her and with that, clicked the bike down into gear with a slight jolt and took off, feeling her hands tighten around his jacket once more.

..

"Here we go," JD said, watching as the police barricade tensed and readied themselves for their first customer of the day.

The bike rolled closer and Chris spotted Vin at the same time that Buck recognised the Harley, but it was JD that spoke out.

"Hey that's -"

"_JD_," Chris said, shaking his head sharply.

"Damn," JD said, realising his big mouth was about to get him in trouble again. "But that really is a nice bike."

Chris stepped forward to the barricade, JD and Buck behind him. Vin wasn't alone so he was going to have to look for a sign from him on how he wanted to play it but until he got one, it would be by the book.

Vin pulled to a stop and set his boots down, purposefully leaving the bike running to annoy the cops who would have to speak loud to be heard. A second later he knew he'd been right when he spotted Larabee and then along side him Josiah and the rest of the team, bar Ezra. Spotting Josiah had changed everything in an instant. He had no idea what their intentions were though or if this was all Larabee's doing to make contact. If it was, he had to give it to him, it was impressive.

"I need you to turn off your bike and show us your license," the first officer practically had to shout over the noise.

Vin grinned a small grin, playing the irreverent biker to perfection as he flicked the noise and dug in his jacket pocket, aware of the tension surrounding him as he came out with his license, aware that they were tracking his every move. He handed it over and the cops peered at it, one going back to check the details from a marked car.

"There a reason ya'll are standin' around in the middle of the road instead'a drivin' around lookin' fer doughnuts?"

Nettie had come outside at the sound of the bike and now watched the scene with a little awe. Gone was the respectful young man she had met only that morning and in his place was a smug, irreverent criminal.

Chris too was wondering what Vin was thinking. He'd come right out and prodded them with his opening words. Was that how he wanted to play this? Did this mean he wanted him to bring him in?

"You watch your mouth Junior," Buck said to him then and Vin looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"You don't look like you're short on doughnut supply there, _Magnum_."

JD fought back a giggle at the slight to Buck's moustache, but Buck took a step forward and was promptly stopped by Chris's hand to his chest.

"You got a mouth on you," Buck snarled and Chris couldn't tell if the emotion behind the words was real or feigned for the troops.

"I been told," Vin said, his grin widening.

The cop came back and returned his license.

"Afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hop off your bike. We will be conducting a search of your bags."

Vin's smile instantly dropped. "The hell you will."

There was silence a moment before Nettie piped up. "You've got no probable cause!"

Vin grinned in her direction. "Someone here knows the law at least." His eyes couldn't help but wander over to the freshly raked flower garden.

Chris didn't take his eyes off Vin and waited until he finally met his gaze. There was the most incremental dip of his head and Chris knew then what Vin wanted.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, you take your pick," he stepped forward and told him then in a low, commanding voice.

All was quiet for a long moment before finally Vin shrugged his shoulders and turned to Suzy. "You wanted to stretch your legs babe, here's your chance."

Suzy got off and a moment later Vin kicked down his stand and swung his leg over, carefully putting his weight on his damaged knee, happy that the strapping he'd put back in place before he'd left was holding. He had Nettie to thank for that. He moved away as they headed for his saddlebags.

Suzy grabbed his arm and Vin turned to her, seeing her expression of worry. No doubt she was thinking if Vin got taken in one of the other boys would ride out to pick her up and she'd be screwed.

Vin looked from her to Chris, Buck, JD, Josiah, Nathan and the countless faces looking on in growing tension.

"So looks like I'm about to be arrested," he said in a casual voice, but for her ears only. At her expression he quickly added. "I told you, they won't be able to hold me, but you can either catch a ride in with them or stay here and call back to Billy for help."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's not an option."

They were talking close, as if they were playing up to each other, his hand on her arm and hers on his shoulder. "Then you catch a ride into town with them."

She remained silent, looking over at the uniformed and plain clothed men.

"You could always go to them for protection."

She pulled her head back to look at him sharply. That's not something a biker would say. He just shrugged. "It's another option for you."

She shook her head. "Witness protection? Looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life? Never."

Vin shrugged again. "Then you wait it out. They'll get you into town."

She looked at the men searching his bike. "I could ride it back for you. You'll need to get it there."

At that Vin actually laughed. "Now _that's_ not an option." Even if she could ride, he'd most likely never see his bike again.

A moment later one of the cops turned from searching his designated saddle bag and in his hand was a wicked looking hunting knife.

"Hell, who put that there?" Vin said shaking his head with a bored tone.

Chris merely raised an eyebrow and a moment later the other cop came up with a win as well. In his hand was a well-kept Colt 45 no less. Vin actually frowned at that, because that was Ivan's gun. It was followed up by another knife, this one a little more sleek, but no less deadly.

"My turn to carve the turkey this year," Vin quipped with a grin and a shrug of his shoulder.

"You need to get down on the ground and place your hands above your head," the cop with the Colt ordered him, all business now as he handed the gun off to Chris who was closest, with his partner covering him with his own gun.

Vin tipped his head to the side, knowing what they'd find on him. He looked at Suzy. "Looks like you're gonna need a ride home," he said loud enough for Chris to hear and flicked his eyes his way.

"Down on the ground," the officer repeated and Vin eyed the rough road a moment and grimaced. There was no easy way to get down there with his bad knee. "Don't s'pose I could save you the trouble and just hand my weapons over?"

It was at that point that the cop with his hands free stepped forward and swept his legs out from under him, shoving him to the ground face down.

Vin landed with an audible groan as the air was pushed out of him, his knee firing up from the rough impact and his cheek grazing the bitumen before he could get his hands in front of him fully.

"I'll take that as a no," he ground out against the rough surface as his hands were pulled up behind his head and cuffed. He knew it wasn't smart to bait them, but there was a large part of him that was still pissed off at the welcome the police had given him in the motel room.

He was searched thoroughly and the stockpile of weapons grew. First came his weapon of choice from the back of his jeans, his Glock 9mm, then the two knives he had in each boot. There was also a small lock pick kit in his jacket pocket and a switch blade.

Chris shook his head at the collection and would have found the scene amusing if not for the way Tanner was breathing hard in the strained position he was in. No one could say his newest acquisition wasn't prepared for any situation... be that a survival camp or a full scale war.

"That's it," the cop said standing back with the weapons haul.

Vin looked up but a second later it was Chris himself hauling him to his feet and Vin noticed he grabbed him on the side of his bad leg, giving him support without it being noticeable. "We'll be taking him in," he announced and Vin brought his hands down in front of him. He heard Larabee speak to the cops in charge of the roadblock.

"Don't call this in, we'll take care of it."

He started leading Vin off to the car as Buck collected all of the weapons.

"You haven't even read him his rights!" Nettie protested.

"Vin looked back over his shoulder and winked at Nettie as he was shoved inside the back of the car.

Chris opened the trunk and Buck placed Vin's veritable arsenal inside. Both men looked down at the stockpile with slight shakes of their heads before Chris shut the lid and they moved to get in the car. Buck got in the back with Vin while JD got in the front and Chris took the drivers seat. Vin had to crane his neck back to see Suzy as she watched on.

"Who's the woman?" Chris asked as he turned back to face him.

"Billy's old lady."

Chris's eyes showed his surprise as he looked back out the rear window. "What the hell are you doing with her?"

"She's trying to get away. I was... helping."

"Good job Junior," Buck said with sarcasm.

Vin turned his whole body to face him then, the move so swift Buck actually leant back from the fierce blaze that shot at him from two angry blue eyes. "Mock me all you want, Wilmington. You've done nothin' but bust my balls since you first met me, but that woman don't deserve ta die 'cause yer too hard-headed to recognise that people 'sides only you want to do the right thing. If she gets stuck here, if the boys pick her up, she's as good as dead... or worse. You need to protect her. She's got no choice but to ride in with us."

Buck stared back at Vin a long moment, taken aback by the angry outburst. The kid hadn't stood up to him before, had just let his comments roll of him, but he could see now that he'd had enough. And maybe, just maybe, he was right. The guy was a mess and all because he was trying to get some justice done, which made them on the same side, only he hadn't seen it that way until now. And besides, there was a woman at stake and he'd always had a soft spot where they were concerned. Especially women like this one.

Chris gave Buck a quick glare and got out of the car, heading to the car in front to speak with Nathan and Josiah. He spoke briefly and then the two agents climbed back out, heading back for Suzy. As Chris approached, Vin had another thought.

"JD? This ain't the time for braggin', I need to know if you can handle my bike."

JD's eyes grew so wide they nearly popped out of his head. "_Seriously_?"

Vin almost grinned at the look. "Can you ride it? I'm gonna be needin' it and I don't wanna leave it here. There's no one-" he cut himself off with a hard swallow, looking away from them for a moment. There was no-one he could trust now to ride it back for him. Those he trusted were either dead or ready to kill him themselves, in the case of Sugar and Charlie.

Buck's eyes narrowed. Again Tanner surprised him. He saw the despair on his face clear as day. The kid was at the end of his rope and he was suddenly feeling compassion for the man.

JD was practically bouncing with one hand already on the door handle. "I can ride it," he said and when Vin still looked sceptical he made a conscious effort to stop bouncing, trying to look as solemn as possible. "I promise you, I can handle her."

The fact that he called her 'her' convinced Vin.

"Key's are in the ignition. Bring her back in one piece for me."

JD's exit would have made ricochet rabbit proud.

"Where's he going?" Chris said as he came back to the car.

"He's gonna ride my bike back."

Buck got out and took the front seat JD had vacated.

"You're game," Chris told him.

"I trust him," Vin said and Buck looked back at that. He could see Vin was serious. He trusted the kid too, so that was something they had in common. For JD's sake, he hoped he didn't break that trust by totalling Vin's bike.

"Did Ezra get back okay?"

He saw the tension come instantly to Chris's face and turned to Buck who answered because he really wasn't sure if Chris could unlock his jaw right then.

"He did. Chris ain't happy he got himself in that situation."

"It wasn't good. If I'd gotten there just a little bit later he would have joined Mitri on the floor." He wasn't boasting, just telling it like it was.

"We figured."

"He sure is a cool one though. Even as they were tellin' him to go, he was trying to sell his skills," Vin shook his head at the memory.

Buck grimaced, looking at Chris. "That's what we pay him for, right Chris?"

Chris grunted a response but didn't try and speak. He definitely had some things to work out with the wily southerner.

They waited as Josiah spoke quietly to Suzy and Vin could see after a few minutes that her face went from tense to resigned. He had no idea what the preacher was saying to her, but he knew all too well the way the man had a knack for getting under your skin and drawing your troubles out. Another minute later and he was leading her back to his car, Nathan again taking the wheel.

"Josiah strikes again," Buck said. "Lucky he uses his mind persuasion thing for good not evil."

Vin heard his bike start up and winced as JD gave it a hard turn on the throttle. He heard Buck laughing and looked up to see him shaking his head at his expression.

"You sure you don't wanna rethink that? That kid approaches pretty much everything with the same level of enthusiasm, which is right about the same level a 5 year old approaches Christmas morning."

Vin winced again as JD revved the bike once more and started out behind them. He turned and saw Nettie standing beside her niece and for a second realised he'd seen that level of enthusiasm on someone else. Casey was like JD's female counterpart.

It was quiet in the car for the first minute, each man gathering his thoughts before Vin broke the silence.

"You wanna take these off now? Don't think he could have gotten 'em on any tighter."

When Buck didn't immediately move Chris glanced at him. "Buck."

Buck took out his key and Vin held out his hands for Buck to remove the cuffs. Buck was scowling but Vin was surprised to see he was scowling at the red marks now circling his wrists. The cuffs really had been too tight and he rubbed them to get his circulation back.

"You okay? He dropped you good back there," Chris asked, looking Vin over in the rear view mirror. "Might'a had somethin' to do with that wise mouth you were shootin' off."

Vin pursed his lips and fingered the new graze on his cheek. "Yeah, just doin' his job I guess..."

Chris just quirked a brow at that, not sure at Vin's tone. He figured it had something to do with the beating the cops had given him under Levitz's watch and wasn't sure that he could blame him.

Vin tipped his head back against the seat, enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun shining on his face. The car was warm and quiet. There was a part of him that recognised that he felt safe for the first time in a long time and his weariness threatened to overwhelm him. His voice was even rougher than usual with his fatigue. "Were you waitin' on me?"

Chris nodded. "Figured you'd have to ride out through the checkpoint. Thought we'd come out ourselves to see if you were ready to come in."

Vin looked at Chris's gaze in the mirror. "They would have heard the license check back at the clubhouse, probably the bar too."

"We can say you were let through. I asked them not to call it in."

Vin nodded, then sighed and catching the weary sound Chris studied him again in the mirror.

"You're okay huh?" he said this time with much doubt.

Another sigh, more an expulsion of breath as he let some tension out. "Just tryin'a sort out a million things in m'head. It's a big fuck'n mess, an' I'm right in the middle of it."

It was the first time Chris had heard Vin admit things were out of his control and he was struggling with it. He glanced at Buck and was surprised to see something akin to concern on the man's face. Maybe Tanner had finally broken through to him when he'd bitten back a minute ago. He hoped so. Buck was a damn loyal friend to have, but only once he decided to make that commitment, and he didn't make it lightly or often.

"Where were you headed?"

"Town. He got the info you fed him. He wants me to find Eddie, take him out."

"And Eddies here, in town?"

"On the outskirts I think. Didn't manage to find out where. I was s'posed to head out there today with Sugar when Billy called me in. I'm pretty much the last Texan still in town by now. They're all gatherin' somewhere... you haven't heard anything on 'em? That amount of bikers in one place shouldn't be hard ta spot."

"There's been no word come through to us."

"Bet Levitz'd know. Not much would get past that prick in his own town." Vin sighed again, almost wanting to hold back what he was going to say. "Billy's gonna take him out... guess you should warn him."

Chris's eyes met his sharply in the mirror. "You know when? How?"

Vin shook his head. "Said I could do it myself as payback. Don't think he'll move on it 'til after the funeral, think he needs him 'til then."

Chris nodded, then seeing it wasn't an emergency found his lip curling up. "Not sure that's worth the phone call."

Vin gave a huff of a laugh in response and tilted his head back again in the sunlight.

"Okay. Tell me what happened with Sugar, Ezra already told us he was pissed you didn't leave with him to join Eddie."

"Ezra..." Vin said, as if trying to work out a puzzle, then gave his head a slight shake. The motion of the car, the cushioned silence, the sunlight, it was all conspiring to drag him to sleep. The few hours he'd grabbed, together with the long night's he'd had had taken their toll. "Sugar's pissed all right, but he knows what I'm up to. I'll try an' contact him in town..." he mused out loud.

Chris's eyes narrowed as he picked up the lazy drawl coming from the back. He was surprised to see the Texan's face leaning back on the headrest and his eyes closed.

"We also got the guy in charge of the facility, Bale. He's squealin' so loud they had to move him out to a place in the woods so no one can hear him," Buck told him.

"Figured as much when I saw the base you guys set up. You're gonna raid the clubhouse?"

Chris nodded even though Vin's eyes were still closed. "During the funeral."

"S'good. Won't be much of anyone left there. Maybe some guards... There's another entrance, underneath. Suzy told me about it. I can map it out fer you. There won't be a lot of guys left but they won't expect that."

Buck looked at Chris. More good news. They were silent for over five minutes as the landscape passed by, the afternoon sun continuing to filter through the glass surrounding them. After a while Chris spoke, his eyes still on the road.

"I need to know everything you know," he told Vin and when there was no response he found he wasn't surprised this time to look back and see that not only were Vin's eyes closed, his mouth was slightly open in sleep. He turned in his seat to confirm that his mirror wasn't lying then glanced at Buck, who also peered behind them.

"Looks like Junior's not superman after all," he said quietly.

Chris pursed his lips. He'd told him as much.

"Where we gonna head?"

Chris thought about it. "My place. If he's this wiped out he's not gonna argue and by the time we get there it'll be too late for him to fight me on it."

"What about the woman?"

Chris frowned at that and took out his phone, dialling Josiah.

"Chris."

"What's your situation?"

"We're giving the fine lady a lift into the city."

"She won't come in?"

"No, and we have no reason to either."

Chris nodded. "You told her we could protect her?"

"I gave it my best shot, but even I have my failures."

In the lead car Josiah was smiling back at Suzy Monroe, as she had called herself. She even smiled a little in return. She wasn't used to anyone trying to help her. The big man's good intentions were overwhelming, but she wasn't tempted for a moment to talk to him or anyone else about Billy. All she wanted was to be long gone and start fresh.

"Okay," Chris told him. "We're heading to my place. You boys head back to the office, see if you can find any word on the Texan chapter and where they're gathering. We need to make sure they're covered coming into the city."

"Will do."

Chris hung up and took another glance in the mirror. Vin's head was now resting against the window, the sunlight lighting his face and the myriad of bruises that went with it. Without having to ask, Chris knew he needed to take a step back to get his head together. It was the first time since they'd met that he hadn't been anxious to get away, to get back into it. He figured whatever had happened to the men who'd died last night had changed the game for him. He hadn't been able to do much for him so far, but this was his chance to show him he had the full support of his team and that he really wasn't in this thing alone. He didn't plan on screwing that up.

..

They arrived back at Chris's apartment building an hour and a half later. They drove the block once, checking all was clear before heading into the underground parking area. He parked in his bay and turned around, only to see that Vin was awake and looking back at him.

"Nice nap Princess?" Buck asked but as Vin looked at him, he could see there was none of the earlier ill-will he'd seen coming from him.

His voice came out like gravel in his throat. "Where are we?"

"My place," Chris said and Vin sat up a little straighter, looking around at the dark interior of the car park as he ran a hand across his wiry chin.

"Could use a little work."

Chris grinned and got out, turning for the stairwell as the loud rumble of Vin's motorcycle started to bounce along the concrete walls. They waited as the headlight crept forward and JD entered, not slowing down as the bike wheeled over a long drainage grate that crossed the underground parking's entrance. Vin winced at the solid noise the wheels made over the metal bars and heard Buck chuckle again.

"Christmas fucking day."

Vin shook his head. "Yeah, well time to put the toys away." He turned to Chris. "Can it be parked out of view somewhere?" He went to his saddlebag and dug in, sifting around until he came out with the battered remnants of his cell phone and a moment later its charger. A second later he located the folded map Billy had given him.

Chris was already getting out some keys and headed to a roller door, which he unlocked and lifted and then turned and gestured to JD.

"Gimme a hand shifting some of this crap over, Buck."

Buck moved forward and looked inside at the pile of junk Chris had managed to store in the small space he'd been allocated as part of his lease.

"Shut it," he told his old friend without having to look.

"You should go on that show about hoarders..."

They managed to clear enough room to wheel the bike in and JD's face said everything before his mouth could form the words.

"I so have to get my bike running!" he said, his cheeks flushed from the ride and his smile beaming at them. "Thanks Vin! That was awesome! I think I want to sell mine and get one of these now!"

Vin held out a hand for the keys and was relieved when he felt their weight in his own pocket again. "Thanks for bringin' her back in one piece."

Chris looked at Buck. "You an' JD head back to the office and meet up with Josiah and Nathan. We need to get a location on Eddie and we need full details of the cemetery and surrounds. Hell, get Ezra on it too. Call Murphy and then update me where he's at."

Buck took Chris's keys and headed back out with JD.

"Lemme guess," Vin said, eyeing the stairs. "Penthouse?"

Chris paused and turned back, realising the stairs would be a problem for Vin and before he could argue he moved in to get a shoulder under his right arm. That Vin didn't protest told him a lot.

"Not quite, but close enough."

It took time to climb the four flights and by then there were lines of strain around Vin's eyes. He was leaning against the wall waiting for Chris to unlock his door when a door opposite Chris's opened and an old lady poked her head out. She eyed Vin from head to toe then looked at Chris.

"I baked pie if you want some," she told him, shooting another wary glance at Vin.

Chris paused with his key in the door and turned to look at her. "Mrs Bower," he nodded. "Maybe a bit later, thanks."

Vin smirked as Chris opened the door, he turned back and nodded at the old woman, who's curiosity was palpable, before following Chris inside and closing the door.

"Nice neighbours."

Chris was checking his apartment as Vin followed him in. With Benning framed and the threat of a bomb to his car, he was taking no chances.

"She's useful if you want to know anything going on around here. Sees everything."

"There's one in every buildin'."

"Makes good pie though," he admitted, not sure why he did.

Vin entered the humble but surprisingly spacious apartment and headed straight for the long couch, ignoring the surprise he could feel radiating from Chris. After all his fighting not to be brought in over the last days, here he was making himself at home like he had nowhere better to be. He could see how his new boss would be unsettled by his change in attitude. He found a power point right by the couch and plugged his phone in, watching it in trepidation.

"You want a beer?"

"Hell yes," he said and waited as Chris crossed to the kitchen and got out two beers.

Chris took the battered looking armchair facing the couch and they sat in silence for a minute enjoying their beers while Vin tried to get his thoughts in order. He was pleasantly surprised when his phone beeped and began to charge. After a while he spoke, telling Chris everything he knew about the upcoming stand off that would happen at the funeral. He went on, trying to think of everything he knew that Chris needed to know before Chris updated him on everything that had happened at the facility during the clean up.

"Damn," Vin said, shaking his head when Chris finished on a solemn note, describing the fuck-up Buck and JD had caused when they'd blown up the truck. "That's gonna stick."

"Tell me about it."

"Billy told me they set Benning up." Vin knew how important that statement was when the surprise on Larabee's face turned to absolute relief and if he wasn't mistaken, guilt. "Billly said he was making headway, getting too close. Said you were next on the list. He's onto the whole operation, gets his intel from Levitz, but thinks Levitz has overstepped his mark. That's why he's gonna take him down. I reckon when they raid the clubhouse they'll find evidence of whoever Billy uses to doctor his photo's."

"I'll make it right with Benning," Chris said then, his voice solemn, only too glad to have heard the words of vindication. "So you have no idea where Eddie is?"

Vin shook his head. "No idea, don't think Billy does either but he's definitely got somethin' planned. I would have known if I'd followed Sugar... hell.. maybe I should have followed him..."

Chis's eyes narrowed as Vin again closed his eyes and ran a weary hand over his face.

"But you didn't because you wanted to stick with Billy," he prompted.

Vin nodded. "Yeah. I'm close. I couldn't pull out after all it's taken to get this far with him."

"What happened to the men last night? The old lady at the roadhouse told me she saw them killed by a guard on the video you played on her computer."

Vin's eyes shot open and he blinked at that in total surprise. "She told you that?"

Chris smirked. "She made you. Turns out you're not the big bad-ass biker you thought you were, she saw straight through it."

Vin found he wasn't shocked after all. The woman was smart alright. He was still surprised she'd spoken to Chris.

"I swiped the footage from the security guys at the compound before I left."

"Yeah thanks for that. I take it it was you that smashed up their gear?"

"Thought I'd buy you some time to get in."

Before either of them could speak again there was a massive bang of thunder practically riding on top of a flash of lightening out of nowhere and a few seconds later they could see the rain start to pelt down out the window beside them.

"What the fuck is wrong with this town?" Vin said with passion. Was this a place he could really live in? Could anyone?

Chris shook his head as another low rumble followed the first. "Started about a week before I met you and hasn't let up since. Before that it was clear skies since I got here. This isn't normal, far as I know."

Vin gave another wry huff at that. _Of course it wasn't._ A week before he met Larabee was about the time he'd rolled into town. He shook his head at the sight of the rain belting down outside, glad that his bike was undercover and JD wasn't still on it in the deluge.

"So the footage?"

"Showed a guard taking down Cheese... one of the guys with me."

"Why would a guard do that? Don't they work for the club?"

"Had to have been Billy's order."

Chris watched as Vin struggled to find the words to tell him what he thought. He could see how much this was affecting him. "And why would he order that?" he prompted.

Vin took a long swallow of beer as another bright flash of lightening lit the darkened room and tilted his head back on the seat as he had in the car. "To get ta me. To cut me off from everythin' familiar and that I can protect myself with so that I'd go to him with nuthin'."

Chris realised it was guilt that was weighing him down. "You couldn't have known he'd do that."

Vin's voice had a raw edge. "Should have seen it comin'. I dragged 'em into a situation they had no place bein' in. Should'a gone alone..." His voice trailed off and Chris saw the pain the Texan was trying to hold back. He'd been right, their deaths had affected him deeply. He was in deep and he was starting to drown.

Chris shook his head. "It's wasn't your fault."

Vin studied Chris's expression for a moment and then looked away, not ready to believe the man could have such faith in him.

"Why would he think you'd go to him? Why believe you aren't loyal to Eddie?"

"Cos I came up here on my own, left Texas behind. I took that job for him last night as a first step and it was enough ta tell him I wanted to be a part of what he's doin'. He thinks I'm lookin' for more an' now he thinks I have no reason ta go back ta Texas."

"Now that he's killed your closest friends."

Vin looked down at his beer, the pain on his face obvious. "Yeah. They really were." He lifted his head and looked straight at Chris. "I'd known them forever. Even Keg, one of the guys they're buryin' tomorrow, I grew up with him. I know this is a job, I've never for a second forgotten what I do, that I'm playin' a part, but I've also known those boys all my life. The reason I've gotten in so deep, deeper than anyone else possibly could, is because I grew up with this life. It's part of who I am. I spent time with these guys, we had each others back through rough times. And they had no God damned idea... they had my back, all of 'em and this is how I repay 'em."

Chris studied the defeated expression on Vin's face, read the anger, the sense of injustice that was coming from him. "Nobody forced them to be bikers, Vin."

"Maybe not, but they were there last night because of me. They'd be alive right now if I hadn't of gotten them killed 'cause I had another agenda they had no fuck'n idea about!" He took a breath and calmed himself, knowing his fatigue was making him lose control over the emotions he was usually so good at hiding from the world. "Not all of them are bad, Chris. These guys, they grew up rough, rougher than I think you can imagine. They've been dealin' with life's worst parts since they could walk and given that, they turned out not so bad. None of 'em had ever killed anyone that I knew of an' back in Texas they don't run drugs either. The club didn't turned out the way any of 'em probably wanted it to, but they stuck with it to stick with each other. Hell, they were actually lookin' at getting' out when they were taken out of the game. They didn't buy into the whole bad biker thing, they just wanted to ride together. They were what clubs _should_ be about."

Without meaning to Vin had painted a picture for Chris of his own youth and Chris realised then just how much a part of that dark world Vin was. He worried then that it ever _would_ be over for him, how it would end for him.

Perhaps sensing he'd revealed too much, Vin tried to lighten the moment. "Maybe we should just step back, let 'em take each other out. By the time they're finished all we'll have to do is go in an' clean up the mess."

Chris grinned. "It's not a _bad_ plan. I've been tellin' myself all day what a waste of resources this is." He took another sip of his beer. "You hungry?"

Vin nodded. "Yeah, guess I am." Funny, he hadn't felt hungry til Chris mentioned it. All day his stomach had been tense and now that he had five minutes to stop, he found he was ravenous.

Chris grabbed his phone and dialled, smirking at Vin. "What, you thought I could actually cook?"

Vin grinned back. "Just don't get anchovies."

Chris's grin grew. "Wouldn't dream of it. That's Buck's thing though, watch him on that one. Can you find out where Sugar is?"

Vin thought about it. "I'm gonna try."

He reached out and tentatively opened his phone, as if half expecting it to fall apart, then dialled while Chris placed the order and after a long wait the call connected.

"_Yeah?"_

"It's Vin."

"You son of a bitch. I could kick your ass all the way back to Texas."

"I wanna meet up."

"_Now_ you wanna meet up. You had your chance."

Vin felt unease spread through his stomach and seeing that Larabee was now looking at him, he sat up straighter, putting both feet back on the ground. "We have to talk. The things Charlie said... it makes no sense ta me. If you knew what I was doin', why didn't you say somethin'? All this time, you've never let on."

Sugar was silent a long while, Vin had turned the tables on the man and could practically hear his mind turning. "Charlie talks too much," was all he said.

"Yeah, well someone had to. Maybe if you'd'a come clean with me -"

"You listen up kid. I don't owe you a damn thing. All you need to know is that right now you're treadin' a damn fine line. I gave you an order to follow me and you disobeyed it flat out. That's got consequences."

Vin rubbed a hand through his forming beard. "Yeah, well, what hasn't?" He'd faced consequences before from the club, that threat wasn't something new.

He heard Sugar take a long breath and let it out slow. "I know you're heads spinnin', but you tell me now what Billy's got planned."

Vin didn't hesitate. "You know what he wants from me. Want's me to take out Eddie. He want's me to kickstart his personal Armageddon. He wants this war an' I think there's a lot he ain't tellin' me. He was too confident, like he had an ace up his sleeve."

"Yeah, well we'll be waitin' for him. He thinks we're just gonna roll over he's stupider than I thought."

"I think he's got somethin' in place to make sure he doesn't waste the opportunity."

"And like I said, we'll be waitin'. We got the numbers."

Vin looked sharply at Chris. "You can't outnumber him. Even if you brought the whole chapter up..."

"You think we're the only club wants that prick taken down?"

Vin's eyes again flicked to Chris. They had other clubs that were connected, were on peaceable terms. And even if they weren't Billy would have pissed a lot of them off. That's what Eddie had been up to, that's why he'd left the safety of the Texas border. He'd been meeting with other chapters and clubs, getting their backing, making deals.

"Is he even gonna be at the funeral?" Vin asked.

"You think I'd tell you that now after what you just told me?"

Vin shook his head. "You know what I'm plannin' for Billy. You know I'd never betray Eddie. An' if you've really been payin' attention all these years then you know I gotta do this my way."

"Son," Sugar said, and Vin could hear emotion in his voice. "Your way is gonna get you killed."

"Maybe, but I'll be takin' him down with me." He paused a moment. "Billy had you followed, was going to call me to let me know where they chase you back to."

Sugar grunted what Vin assumed was meant to be a laugh. "Yeah, he had the cops try an' tail us. Was a nice try."

"What happened to them?" Vin asked, worried.

"We lost 'em. Look, Billy's goin' down, nuthin's gonna stop that now, so you may as well ride out here now and it'll happen anyway."

"Okay. Where are you?"

Vin could almost see Sugar laughing silently. They both knew he wasn't going to meet them, just as Vin knew then that Sugar was never going to reveal where they were. He knew Sugar trusted him, but he wasn't going to chance Billy tailing him at this point. "I'll send you co-ordinates. Ride out now, or meet up with us in the mornin'. Just make sure when I see you you're standin' on the ride side of the battle field... and don't get yourself killed before then."

Sugar hung up and Vin closed the phone, meeting Chris's expectant gaze.


	26. The Calm

A/N Sorry for the wait. Although I know where this is going, for some reason this chapter did my head in. Through some of the PM's I've gotten I've realised some of you reading really do pay attention to the details and I had to really go back and make sure I wasn't backed into a corner on many points. Hopefully it's believable, but really I'm just trying to get to all the action now and finish it up right. It'll be all systems go from here :) And thanks to those of you that have messaged me, it really has given me the encouragement this monster needed to get it finished! Your feedback has been priceless and made the process totally worthwhile :)

**26. The Calm**

Half an hour later they were eating the pizza Chris had ordered and Vin had filled Chris in on the conversation, told him his thoughts on who would and wouldn't join with Eddie and drawn him some sketches of the layout of the clubhouse and where the underground entrance should be, according to Suzy.

Vin had already realised he'd again lost his appetite with Sugar's call. Chris was watching him, noting how the tension had returned to him with the phone call and wanting to help take the pressure off, but he was taking it slow. He knew if he started making demands Vin's back would get up and that would get both of them nowhere fast. There was one part of the conversation he wasn't about to ignore though.

"So this conversation you had with Charlie... what did you mean when you said Sugar knows what you're doing all this time?"

Vin swallowed the suddenly dry food in his mouth and took a swig of his beer, taking his time as he put the bottle on the table.

"Sugar knows somethin' about my past... I don't know what." Seeing Chris's expression he went on. "Charlie's Sugar's oldest friend. He cornered me this mornin' when I got to the clubhouse, was waitin' on me. They've been watchin' me move in on Billy and they're okay with that, just not happy I took too long to get the job done."

Chris frowned, piecing together what Vin had told him in the past and what he was saying now. "What do they know? That your mother was killed? That you think it was Billy that killed your parents?"

Vin went still. "I never said I thought it was Billy."

Chris gave a short laugh. "And you think I'm that stupid? You've attached yourself to him from the second you got here. You've sacrificed your health and put your life in constant danger and it's all revolved around him."

Vin stared back at him, jaw hard, but not denying it.

"Look, I get it. I told you before I get the revenge thing, but be straight with me here or I can't help you out of this. You're in deep with your own war, yet you're caught right in the middle of theirs. It's gonna get you killed if you don't take a step back and think this through. That's why I was hoping you came here. I thought you finally realised you don't have to do this alone."

He'd spoken almost the same words as Sugar on the phone. Everyone thought he was about to get himself killed. Hell, _he_ was beginning to not see a clear way out. It all came down to one thing though; could he trust Chris Larabee?

Chris watched Vin's thoughts churning behind his vivid eyes and waited again. He'd said enough. It was time for the Texan to decide.

"Yeah," Vin said slowly, after a lengthy pause. He took the last swig of his beer and sat back on the couch again. "You're right. I do think it was Billy."

Chris smirked. "Not so hard was it?" He got up and went for more beer, opening two and handing one to Vin.

"Here's the thing though," Vin said when Chris had sat down again, but this time he avoided eye contact and the words came out through a too tight throat. He sounded calm, emotionless, but was anything but. "It wasn't a car accident. He raped and killed her. Slit her throat, him and his men."

Chris's frown deepened in shock and for a long while he couldn't think how to respond. Then his mind started putting things together and his eyes grew wide as the pieces fell into place. "The kid Murphy told me about... back in Texas. Jesus Christ, that was _you_? You saw it happen?" It was unfathomable.

Vin just nodded once, still not meeting his gaze. He didn't know what he'd see in his expression.

"Jesus," Chris said again, letting the full extent of that knowledge and what Vin's life had been sink in. Then, a second later. "Wait a minute. Murphy told me that Billy had raped and murdered his _own_ woman..."

Vin did meet his eyes then and Chris saw the pain on his face. More importantly though, Vin saw understanding.

"Billy's your father," he said in a voice of total shock.

Vin sighed. "And now you know why I can't walk away from this."

They were silent for a long while, each thinking things through.

"So what does Sugar know? If he knows about your past and who you are..."

"I don't know how much he knows, but what he does he's keepin' to himself. He didn't even tell Charlie."

"But is there any chance he can know you're an agent? And what reason would he have to keep things to himself about you? What are you to him?"

Again Vin shook his head. "No way he knows I'm an agent, but why he'd keep things to himself I have no idea. I'm nothin' to him."

"He only knows you as Vin Turner? Even though he knew you as a kid? How does that work?"

"I grew up with the name Turner. Found out years later my birth certificate actually said Tanner. I dug as much as I could but didn't have a hell of a lot to go on where my mother's family is concerned. I know she used my grandmother's maiden name. No idea why my mother put that name on there. Maybe she was raised by her, but I never did find out. When I's a kid, she kept me away from the club, mostly. When they were around I just... wasn't. She tried to make sure'a that. No-one really paid me any attention." That was another lie, Billy had paid him plenty of attention when he was drunk enough. "They barely knew I existed. I was her brat, her problem. Most of 'em wouldn't have known my first name let alone what was on my birth certificate. When they put me in the first state home I was listed as Turner. I never knew later if it was a spelling mistake or if someone maybe did it on purpose, but I kept usin' the name."

"But you enlisted as Tanner."

"I wanted it to be separate from what I'd become involved in."

Chris shook his head. What a double life Vin had led, literally. His undercover name was more than something that had been used for his work. He'd been using it his whole life. "So he knows you enlisted, did he know before you let those records leak to them?"

"Yeah, I told him I was enlisting. He thought it would be good fer me."

"But he doesn't know about the NTF?" Chris had to press again. It was worrying, to say the least.

But Vin shook his head, although Chris saw the uncertainty lurking there. "He can't know. I wouldn't be sittin' here if he did."

"How did you keep that from them?"

"I was trainin' with him at the time I went off to enlist. After I served, I didn't go back right away. I made no contact with anyone during those years and I joined the NTF up in San Diego."

"And why did you pick the NTF? From what I hear you could have had your pick of jobs, private ones too that would have made you good money."

Vin grinned sheepishly. "Heard they were puttin' together a special operations unit, to try an' infiltrate the Joker's down in Texas. Seemed like a golden ticket."

Chris felt his own lips twist in a wry expression.

Vin shrugged. "I was always gonna go back there, one way or another. The military though... it changed me. I didn't really enjoy the life but it taught me a lot. At one point before I enlisted I was thinkin' about joining the club the legitimate way. Would have been easy, I was already a shoe in with Sugar as my trainer. Then the longer I served, the more people I met all tryin' to make a difference... I started thinkin' maybe there was another way to do it. Maybe it wasn't so much about wantin' to do it the right way, but makin' sure I'd have a life after it was over."

Chris was impressed. "I'm glad to hear that. Cos this _will_ be over."

They shared a glance and Vin nodded. He understood what Chris was telling him and to his surprise he realised he was ready for it. He _wanted_ to move on.

"And your exit strategy? Do you even have one?"

Vin felt the familiar tension in his stomach. "I said I wanted a life after, didn't say I knew how that was gonna happen." He sighed again. "Things kind of snowballed since I got here. It's all moved so quick I feel like I'm gonna have a hard time jumpin' off this ride."

"There's no way to leave the club? To make them believe you signed on after you left them if they ever find out?"

Vin tilted his head. "Depends on how I leave... or maybe I just end up livin' on some island somewhere on the other side of the world to avoid endin' up like Lucas Walsh... Maybe I'll meet up with Suzy there."

Chris remembered Vin telling him about the undercover agent's fate when he was in the hospital. It hadn't ended well for the man.

"You expecting to hear from her?"

"Nope. Hopefully she's long gone by now."

"Well," Chris said finally, clearing away the empty box and beers and grabbing his laptop. "We may as well see if we can dig anything up from here and figure out how they're going to try and annihilate each other tomorrow."

He searched for a map of the cemetery. The satellite image wasn't the latest one and so he called Buck to send over the current data on the area. The rest of the team would show up when they either had something useful or had exhausted all avenues. It was already late but they wanted to find something that connected the bikers to the area. For them to be able to get weapons inside, they would have to have something in place.

"What's your plan for the morning?" Chris asked.

"Thought I'd head to the cemetery before sun up, scope things out and find a good spot near the burial site. Billy's expectin' me to be watchin' for Eddie, so that's what I'll do."

"You think he'll expose himself like that?"

"I think he'll be there, just not part of the main crowd." Vin thought about it. Now that he had a chance to stop and put things in perspective he was going to use his time well. "Eddie will try and blend into the background, he'll probably be in civilian clothes."

"You think there'll be a lot of civilians?"

"Definitely. You know the stats, bikers only represent a small percentage of actual numbers. I think Eddie will be close though, he won't be able to help himself. Billy's plan is straightforward, take out the high-value targets first, damage the chain of command. It's supposed to start with Eddie, so it'll be a matter of whether he gives himself away."

"And you think he'll do that?"

Vin grinned. "Well... if I had a mind to, I'd work it out." He wasn't bragging, it was his forte. He'd look for signs, observe the crowd in detail until Billy showed himself through the smallest of gestures. There were certain behaviours and signs a leader in Billy's position would show which would belie his attempt to hide himself, no matter how discreet he tried to be. "But Billy's men might not. If they can't identify him they'll move on. Sugar, Charlie... then whoever they can hit."

"And Eddie? Will he be aiming to do the same thing?"

"I don't think he'll be as discriminating. He'd want Billy, but he can't be sure the man will actually show. So he'll probably just try and take out as many as they can. He wants the chapter shut down, that means anyone loyal to Billy will have to be taken down."

Chris shook his head. Bloodthirsty didn't cut it. For a moment he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

"It's too late for me to try and find Sugar an' Billy will be expectin' me to have taken up a position... My only problem is using my vantage to do some good. I won't be able to get a weapon through there, even if I had one."

Chris thought about that. "Unless..." he looked at the cemetery. "The burial is going to take place here, this is the area owned by the club. It's pretty flat ground and there's not many buildings around. There's the mausoleum, but that's too exposed to the front of the main entrance. The chapel and main maintenance shed are too far away..."

Vin looked further from the burial site, to two massive crypts standing alone. He pointed to them. "I'd have to take a look myself, but they would be my pick."

Chris studied the large structures and gauged the distance to the burial site. He glanced up at Vin with an eyebrow raised, to which Vin only gave a cocky grin. "Seriously?"

"Like lickin' butter off a knife."

Chris shook his head, but grinned back all the same. Maybe the Texan really was that good a shot, he had no reason to doubt him.

"If you took up position there it would give us some unexpected cover. Nobody would be expecting a sniper that far out."

"I'd need a rifle."

"I can organise that. Even better, I'll send someone in with you."

Vin frowned but Chris stopped his protest. "You're not the only professional around here. I'll have a man meet you out there. Whether he stays or not will be your call, but if he doesn't take up position with you he'll be setting up at another spot. We're going to have snipers positioned on most of the buildings surrounding the area."

Vin held his look a moment longer before Chris put a phone call through to Brett Thomas, leader of the DEA's Denver mobile unit. If the man was put out by the lateness of the call he didn't show it. Chris would bet he was going over his own plans for the morning. After a brief conversation he hung up and turned back to Vin.

"Agent Pearce will meet you there at 6.00."

Vin nodded, thinking about what equipment the man would bring. It would make him feel better about the situation if he had his own rifle, or at least had time to set up the rifle he'd have access to, but he would make do. As always, he hoped he would not have to actually use it, but he knew more than most people that it paid to be prepared.

"And you? The rest of the team?" Vin asked.

"If we don't come up with anything more to go on tonight, then we'll be taking up positions near the main gate." He indicated the area on the map. "We'll have four complete teams inside the cemetery, with full reinforcements outside the gates, as well as air support if it comes to that." Chris would like to think that was overkill, but he was starting to truly feel that it might not be enough.

They continued to research the area for a while until Vin realised he didn't have much left in him. The food, the beer and perhaps the confession had no doubt conspired against him and his head was dropping forward where he sat on the couch, hand resting on his sore leg that he had stretched out on the coffee table before him.

"I got a spare room if you wanna catch some sleep. You're welcome to crash the night and head out in the morning. There's not a lot more you can do tonight."

To his surprise Vin swung himself off the couch. "Think I'll take ya up on that." He made to grab his phone, charger and all, just as there was a knock at the door.

..

Buck had been held up waiting on some latest maps to be sent to him and he decided to hand deliver them.

"You know, Chris," Buck said with a shake of his head as he entered, "you should start payin' that old woman out there for information. I'll bet she knows what every person in the building had for breakfast this mornin'. She said you had a bona fide criminal in here."

Chris shook his head. "Damn. She'll probably poison the next pie she sends over."

"Hey Vin."

"Buck," Vin greeted in return, settling back on the couch for the moment.

The rest of the team must have communicated as they all turned up a minute after Buck did. Ezra took the seat next Vin, who again had his injured leg stretched out on the coffee table.

"Glad ta see ya made it back in one piece."

Ezra grinned. "Likewise my friend. I owe you for that."

Vin nodded and that was that. The next minute he was scowling as Nathan approached him from the kitchen, a medical kit the size of a small ambulance having materialised from seemingly nowhere in his capable hands.

"Shit Nathan, I'm -"

"_Fine_, yes, so you keep saying. Then next time I see you you're covered in a new layer of cuts and bruises. Humour me."

Vin leaned back into the couch and tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling like it could deliver him patience as Nathan prodded the small bandage Nettie had put over the cut on his temple. Ezra gave him a look of sympathy, he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Nathan's missions to heal.

"So you boys been busy?" Vin asked, to stop them looking his way. He could see the curiosity on their faces as Nathan revealed more bruises as he moved his shirt out of the way.

"We don't know much more about the businesses surrounding the area. There doesn't seem to be anything that ties them to the club. We've been communicating with Murphy. He appreciates the intel you gave for the layout of the clubhouse," Josiah told him.

Vin swatted Nathan's hand away when the man gestured for him to let him check his knee. He'd humoured him all he was going to. "Look, I'm bruised ta hell an' I've strained parts a'me that have no right bein' strained that far." He gestured to his knee, "but there's nothin' but time that's gonna be helpin' with any of it, so you may as well stop yer hoverin' an' let me be."

Nathan frowned, giving Vin his best intimidating glare, but to his astonishment the Texan just gave a low throaty chuckle. "I've had old ladies glare me down better'n that today, an' I tolerated this," he pointed to the bandage on his head, which he promptly pulled off to Nathan's dismay. "I sure as hell ain't takin' it from you too."

Nathan looked at the jagged cut a moment and was apparently satisfied his brains weren't about to fall out of his head because he stepped back out of Vin's space.

"When this is done, you're going back in the hospital. You need some scans done to make sure that bruising isn't anything more serious. You also need to get that knee looked at properly. You shouldn't be drinking beer either, aren't you still on antibiotics? You look a little dehydrated."

Chris frowned at that and gave Vin a long assessing long, then apparently determining that Vin's need to relax with a beer outweighed his need to rehydrate, he gestured for Nathan to take a seat. "Back off Nate, he knows what he's doing. Lets get back to business." Besides, he wasn't sure if Vin would have told him as much as he had if he hadn't of been a few beers down and exhausted, so he was grateful.

Vin gave Nathan a triumphant grin, to which Josiah chuckled at the look on the ever-a-medic's face. JD came back from the bathroom and sat on the spare single couch that faced the coffee table and they caught Vin up to where their investigations had taken them, discussing the information they had each gathered at length, which became rapidly obvious wasn't much to go on.

"None of the buildings are affiliated with the club, that we know of. Of course there could be some connection we've missed, but nothing appears obvious," Ezra stated again, thinking.

"There has to be something," Buck said. "No-ones seen the entire Texas chapter gathered in one place? Where the hell are they riding in from?"

Josiah looked over the list again, showing Vin. "Most of it's storage. There's a toilet paper, or paper storage unit, meat storage-"

"Ew," JD said, "next to a cemetery?"

"Yeah, seams a bit off..." Josiah conceded. "The police have looked over the buildings in the last few days and haven't noticed anything out of place. Another drive-by was done tonight, but there was no activity at all. There's a metal sorting plant, that actually takes up a fair strip of the bank... a coffin manufacturing plant-"

"That's convenient," Chris put in.

"-A cookie manufacturing plant-"

"_Seriously_?!" JD was appalled.

"That's fertile land, kid," Buck said with a snigger.

Josiah went on as if they hadn't spoken. "There's also a pipe making facility, a salvage yard and a lumbar yard. They're the main ones on the strip bordering the cemetery. There's others but they're more out of the way. The meat plant, lumbar yard and metal sorting are the two closest to the bridges."

"And they've all been looked at," Nathan added.

Chris noticed Vin staring at the map. "Vin?"

Vin looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Something wrong?"

Vin pursed his lips, shook his head. "No."

Chris couldn't put his finger on it, but something in the Texan's face made him think he was lying. "Vin..."

Vin looked around the room, at each of them and saw they were all looking at him in return. Damn it. His brain told him to shut the hell up, to handle it alone, but his gut... his gut told him he could trust them to handle it. He blew out the breath he'd been holding. "The salvage yard," he said on the exhale.

Chris closed his eyes and gave his head a shake, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose at the sudden tension the Texas put there. "You were gonna keep that to yourself?"

"No... _yes_... aw hell." Vin sat back into the soft couch and ran a hand through his tangled hair.

"Well it's a start," Josiah said and Vin looked at him. Josiah smiled and looked from Chris back to Vin. "He told us and we didn't even have to pull his fingernails out to get the information. I do believe our boy is starting to learn he's part of the team."

Chris's frown hadn't left but he conceded that Josiah was right. "What makes you think there's a connection to the salvage yard?"

Vin pointed down at the aerial shot, which had a recent date on it and Chris made out a large area of what looked like the remains of motorcycle frames. "There's more bikes than cars. I'm pretty sure I heard one of the boys mention they could get some parts out from the salvage yard for an old bike. Figures they'd own it, or be associated with it."

"There's not a lot of cover there, but room enough to store some weapons," Nathan said, peering at the map.

"There's a shed, that'd be big enough."

Chris made a phone call, requesting another police drive by to see if anything looked out of place at the yard.

"I really think we should check it out ourselves," Vin said, frowning. "If they _are_ usin' the place to store their weapons, they'll be guardin' it well."

"Let's wait and see if the cops spot anything first, then we'll move on it. Best thing we can do is think ahead before we get out there and start sifting around. This is a big area to cover without something to go on," Chris replied.

"And they'd still have to get the weapons inside the cemetery itself," Buck added.

Half an hour later Chris got a phone call that everything was quiet at the yard, no lights, no movement, completely dark and locked up. He looked at Vin as he relayed this information, seeing the frown on the Texan's face. "What?" he asked as he hung up.

"Nothin'... probably nothin'..."

Chris looked at his watch with a frown of his own and after a moment he sighed. "Josiah, Nathan, you guys wanna take a drive past there on your way home, see if the cops missed something?"

Even as Josiah made to stand, Nathan right behind him, Vin was getting to his feet. "I'll go. I'm the one with the gut feelin', I may as well be the one to check it out."

But Josiah put a hand out and rested it on his shoulder. "Vin teamwork, remember?" he said with a grin. He turned without letting Vin protest again and Vin sank back on the couch in defeat.

"Be careful, if there's anyone there they'll hear ya comin' a mile off an' they wont stop to ask who ya are this time'a night." Vin looked at his watch. "Make that mornin'."

Josiah nodded as he and Nathan left.

Buck's phone rang and after minute he relayed the conversation. "Bikers were stopped at the southern checkpoint. Around 20 with Texas plates. They had no weapons."

"That solves that mystery," JD said.

"How many you think we should be expecting?" Buck asked Vin, who's frown seemed to be fixed now in place.

"Hell of a lot more than that. Reckon they're the decoy, gonna ride straight through the front gate, headin' up the procession."

"How many men would be coming up from Texas?"

"They're not just comin' from Texas," Vin said. "Eddie's been playin' recruiter, gatherin' the troops on his way up. Dependin' on just how unpopular Billy's made himself, there could be hundreds. We won't know 'til they show up in the mornin' I guess."

"Was Eddie with them?" Chris asked, thinking not, considering Buck hadn't mentioned it.

"No sign of him."

Vin yawned again. Seemed catching an hour here or there wasn't working out well for him. He seemed more tired every time he woke up. He rubbed the back of his neck just as his phone beeped. Glancing down he flipped it open, frowning down at the display. He took his foot off the coffee table and reached for Chris's laptop as he looked up at Chris. "The co-ordinates Sugar said he'd send for me to meet up with him." Either Sugar had held off sending it or it had taken a while to come through.

Buck got up and came over, sitting on the arm of JD's chair just as the youngest team member put his feet up on the coffee table. Buck immediately slapped them back down.

"Hey! Vin did it!" he grumbled.

"Vin gets a pass, he's got a bum knee."

JD scowled but kept his boots down.

Vin continued searching for the location and after a minute he was frowning at the screen in thought. "Damn..."

"What is it?" Chris asked and Vin turned the screen to face him. He studied it a moment and then met Vin's eyes. "Damn," he agreed.

"What?" Buck asked impatiently.

"Cheyenne. The co-ordinates are for Cheyenne," Chris said.

"But that's North," Ezra said, his brow puckering. "Why would they be that way?"

"To throw us off. Fooled us didn't it?" Buck said with a shake of his head.

"You think they're legit?" Chris asked.

Vin was thinking it through. He pulled out the large map Buck had brought and then studied it again, glancing from it to a map of the area the coordinates pointed to. It took him a few minutes but finally he swore again, and this time it was heart felt.

"What?!" Buck asked again, his need for sleep starting to outweigh his already limited patience.

"They're already here," Vin said quietly and with conviction, looking straight at Chris.

Chris frowned, looking at the two maps and trying to see how Vin had come up with that theory. He looked at the Cheyenne map, saw what looked like a large open field, or a camp ground and beside it was a rail line, which followed the length of the river running south. All the way through to Denver south, where both the rail line and the river bordered the old cemetery.

"You think they came down on the rail."

Vin eyed the narrow river, which would most likely be dry parts of the year given how small it was. "Don't think they took a ferry," he smirked.

Chris twisted his mouth as if to say 'funny' and eyed the maps again.

"When you say already here..." Ezra said.

"I mean they must be holed up somewhere... somewhere close. Maybe they've been here for a while. Hard to know when no-ones been watchin' the train tracks to see what's been comin' in."

"And there's a platform right near the first bridge there, right outside the back lane entrance to the cemetery," Chris said, eyeing the two small bridges that crossed from the rail line, over the river to the cemetery. The platform was also situated between the salvage yard and the scrap metal sorting facility.

"You think they're there and they'll just cross on over to the cemetery in the morning?" Buck asked Vin. "They still wouldn't get their weapons inside."

Vin looked at Chris. "Is there a checkpoint stationed for that entrance?"

Chris nodded. "All entrances are covered. They'll be searched going through."

Vin shook his head. "Then they'll have their weapons inside already. They would have to have stored them there. If they did come on the rail they've had time to set up without us knowing. Everyone's been so focused watching the borders and they've already been putting things in place under our nose."

"Why would Sugar send you co-ordinates if they're not there?"

Vin shook his head. "He doesn't want me there. He's probably hopin' I'll ride up there and miss the whole thing."

_And yet you're nothing to him... _Chris thought. There was definitely more to the relationship, whether Vin realised it or not.

"The cemetery has been guarded for days," Ezra put in. "No unusual activity has occurred. And as you said," he nodded to Chris, "the buildings have all been checked thoroughly."

Nathan finally called after an hour and reported that all was quiet at the salvage yard. Vin frowned but let it go and Chris finally wrapped things up, sending everyone off to get much needed sleep.

"I'll be headin' out early," Vin told Chris, to which Chris nodded. Vin made to move off but stopped and turned back. "No matter how prepared we are I still think..." he scrubbed a hand through his hair, "this thing's gonna go sideways. Always does." He looked at Chris. "You make sure you an' the boys watch your backs."

Chris glanced over his shoulder at Vin, then turned in his seat to face him when he saw his serious expression. "You're worried about more than bikers taking each other out. What are you going to do when you run into Billy tomorrow? What's your plan exactly?"

"I'll be watchin' your backs. That's my primary concern, that ya'll don't get killed."

"And after that?"

Vin glanced away for a second, but it was a tell to Larabee who was starting to know Vin better than he imagined he could a person in such a short time. "After that, I'll make sure Billy stays put long enough for Murphy to call through that he has enough to arrest the son of a bitch so you can take him out of there in handcuffs."

Chris nodded, but didn't speak right away. "Alright. Let's say I believe that. You're just willin' to let him ride on out of here? Face the law for all he's done?"

"He won't be ridin', he'll be in the back of a squad car. Nowhere to go but prison."

"And prison is enough for you," Chris pushed.

Vin turned to him fully. "No. It's not. But it'll have ta be."

They held each other's intense gazes a long moment, both knowing Vin was lying through his teeth. He didn't intend for Billy to walk away from the place. He was going to end it. Chris's words seemed to echo in the air around them. '_I'd gut the motherfucker.'_

"When this is done, it's done. After tomorrow, you're movin' past this."

Vin bit the inside of his lip but didn't say anything. He didn't think he'd be moving past anything tomorrow. He'd be lucky if he made it out alive. He nodded once and turned back to the hallway and the spare room that awaited him. Once there he plugged in his phone on the night stand, kicked off his boots and was out in seconds, not giving the situation a second more of his thoughts. He knew when to sleep and when to ponder, and this was a time for recharging while he could.

Chris stayed up a bit longer, looking over the maps and searching on his laptop. He wanted to be as familiar as he could with the site. He was happy that Vin felt relaxed enough to take the opportunity to sleep. It said a lot that he trusted him to have his back while he did and he didn't take that lightly. When he did finally get to bed sleep was illusive, his mind whirling through all eventualities, seeking for the unknowns. _Too many._ And then there was Vin, right in the middle of it. He sensed a resignation in the Texan tonight that he didn't like. It was beyond a resolution to get a job done and it bordered on accepting a fate he thought he had no control over. He wanted to tell him, then, that he didn't believe that. That fate was what you made it. He hoped he'd get the chance to show him that once this was over.

For Vin's part, it hadn't been his intention to crash at Chris's house when he'd gotten in his car earlier that day, but there was something about Chris Larabee sitting in the next room and knowing the man had his back that had sent him into a state of ease. For the first time in a long time he slept peacefully, not waking once until his phone alarm beeped at 4.00am. He wanted to get to the site first and scope the area before the DEA agent arrived.


	27. The Storm

**Part 27. The Storm**

_You have been dying since the day  
You were born  
You know it has all been planned  
The quartet of deliverance rides  
A sinner once a sinner twice  
No need for confession now  
Cause now you have got the fight of your life _

_The Horsemen are drawing nearer  
On the leather steeds they ride  
They have come to take your life  
On through the dead of night  
With the four Horsemen ride  
or choose your fate and die _

_**(Metallica – The Four Horsemen)**_

The cemetery was creepier than Vin anticipated. It was old, the oldest he thought he'd seen. The small chapel and main mausoleum were visible from the road and the wrought iron and stone work gave them a gothic feel that had a chill creeping up his spine. Of all the places for it to come down to.

He'd ditched his bike three blocks over, leaving it in the undercover parking alcove of a building that looked like it was no longer being utilised. The morning was crisp and a thick frost covered the ground. He'd left his jacket with his bike and had pulled on a black hooded jumper, wanting to keep as low a profile as he could.

He'd walked the rest of the way and then stuck to the shadows of the buildings across the road as he scoped out the police barricades already in place. The front gates were too well lit to get past and so he headed to the eastern perimeter and continued on past another guarded entrance. Finally the chain link fence grew darker and bended around to the north, where he followed it until he found what he was looking for. It was impossible for the limited police on site to guard the entire perimeter in the darkness and on foot he was swift and silent. Despite the multitude of injuries he was trying his best to ignore he managed to get over the high fence and into the grounds without anyone the wiser.

By his estimation he was about half a mile from the crypt he was seeking and he set off quickly, more unnerved than he would ever admit by the deathly quiet that surrounded his soft, booted footfalls. The place felt wrong. He felt no peace here whatsoever, but he figured that had a lot to do with the limited vision he had in the darkness and the mist. The moon was a sliver in the dark sky and there weren't many lights this far into the grounds to light his way. He saw the two crypts up ahead and paused, crouching and listening for a full five minutes before he moved on, staying low as he approached, boots squelching now in the sodden ground that was sloping slightly downward.

In spite of his early arrival he was surprised to make out the agent already ahead when he stopped again a short distance away. The man was around the same size as himself and was leaning up against the tall wall of the second crypt. His body language was relaxed but as Vin came out in the open he could see that the man was very much aware of his presence. He stepped out and approached, wary of any noises coming from behind him. The agent pushed off the wall and faced him.

"I'm Agent Pearce, Rob, you must be Vin."

Vin nodded, detecting the hint of an English accent in the man's speech and they simply looked at each other for a moment, assessing, before the DEA agent moved.

"Follow me." He turned and headed for the further of the two crypt walls and Vin followed, still wary of any noises around them. There was a thin maintenance rail on the far side of the structure and 'Rob' immediately headed up, confident Vin would follow. Vin took a last look around and headed up behind him.

The two crypts were almost identical, but the one Rob had chosen had a small ledge at the front that rose up, providing adequate cover should anyone want to hide there. He had already set a rifle up against the ledge, to which Vin rose an eyebrow at the agent. The man merely shrugged at him in return and there was a slight smug look on his face that had Vin narrow his eyes and take a long look at the area around them.

He took his time evaluating the position, determining the angle, cover and the visibility it afforded. He noted the wind and the fact that the first crypt was actually providing a good shelter from the light westerly that was currently blowing through. He crouched, getting another perspective and finally, after an exaggerated amount of time, he couldn't help the slight grin that lit his face in response to the still present smirk on the agent's face.

"Yeah okay," he said, shaking his head when the man laughed. It was the right spot.

Rob was pleased with the ATF agents reaction. He'd heard a lot about the man from his time in both the military and the NTF as a sharp shooter. He was no slouch himself in the sniper department, but Tanner's skill with a rifle was admirable, to say the least. He had not been in the military himself, but amongst snipers Vin was legendary for more than one of his shots. He'd heard the man was quiet, reserved, but that he had a good nature and he could see from his attitude now that that was true. There was no arrogance and he was willing to forgive his obvious cockiness in the face of his good call. Seeing Vin eyeing the rifle a moment he stepped forward and gestured to it.

"She's not the newest we have, but I thought you might appreciate her."

Vin eyed the .50 calibre rifle a moment before crouching down and giving it a close inspection. He lifted it up and then gave the gun a thorough checking over as the DEA agent squatted down in silence beside him. All in all, Vin was happy with the rifle, it having been the first rifle he was ever issued. He'd had a lot of practice with the Tac-50 and this one was pretty much stock. Still, he wished he could spend some time getting to know it better. He spent a long moment looking through the scope, seeing in the far distance the readied plots waiting for the biker's. Three fresh graves had been dug and were laying open in waiting, perfectly squared out with moist soil lining the deep sides. Wooden planks sat across the openings, ready for the caskets. The rest of the ground around the area was undisturbed but not too far off he could make out fresh soil covering more plots where recent funerals must have taken place.

He positioned the gun back on the ledge and sat back on his heels, looking at the waiting agent, who was taking something from his pocket. He showed Vin the small earpiece and offered it forward and after a slight pause Vin took it. If it came down to it, it made sense that he would be listening in on the police chatter. He could justify that.

"So... I was told to give you whatever you need and then... see where you wanted me to take up my position."

Vin looked at the agent a long moment and saw that there was no eagerness in the man's face. This was no rookie out to prove himself. This was a man who was just ready to get the job done. He'd shown him nothing but courtesy and respect and Vin was willing to do the same. He looked back out toward the open ground and the burial site that would be their main area of focus. From there he made out the buildings beyond, the chapel and the main mausoleum. Both were exposed to the street. Vin figured there would be agents posted there, but that there would be no pretence in trying to hide them. His gaze moved to their right, to a far off maintenance shed in the distance.

"Have you checked out that area?"

Rob nodded. "I did. The roof is good, there's a sky light on the front side that would give a good cover."

"Okay, consider it yours."

To his surprise Rob laughed again. "I've already moved in."

Vin shook his head, he'd been wondering where the man's own rifle was. "Maybe it's time you went home then."

Rob smiled and tipped his head before moving for the ladder. Vin watched him go and turned back to the gun. Although the funeral was still hours away it would be light soon. Before the sun started peaking up over the horizon behind him he planned to become invisible.

..

An hour later Chris was wandering the perimeter of the meat packing plant, which was operating at full swing with a night shift. He and the rest of the team had arrived first before the other departments to make sure that the gate checkpoints were in place. In a few short hours there would be uniformed officers lining the streets, ensuring that absolutely no-one got inside the property without being checked first. They'd gone to the salvage yard and seen for themselves that there was nothing strange happening there. Without a warrant they couldn't take a closer look, but the place was deserted and there wasn't a flicker of movement. If there were weapons inside, it would be near impossible to get them over the street to the graveyard.

He sighed and looked at his watch. 7.00am. Soon the streets were going to be utter chaos. He could only hope this day would go down without too much bloodshed and if there had to be some, that it was all on the side of the bikers themselves. He moved away from the noise of the plant, rounding the corner that led back out to the car park and a second later he almost threw his phone in the air and jumped out of his boots at the same time.

"What the FUCK?!" He glared at Buck, who had appeared dead ahead of him out of nowhere as he'd rounded the corner.

Buck's teeth showed in the dim light. "Maybe you should check out that toilet paper plant now."

Chris's scowl morphed into a grin. "Son of a _bitch_." He'd scared the hell out of him. "What are you doing over here?"

Buck pointed back in the direction he'd come. "There's nothing over that way. JD and Nathan are going to head back to the main gate and meet up with Josiah and Ezra."

Chris took a last look around the area and nodded. He'd already heard from Rob Pearce, the DEA sniper he'd been loaned and knew that Vin was in position even though he hadn't communicated with his newest recruit himself yet. "Alright. Let's head back over the road and get ready for the show."

They headed back and toward the rail line using the short wooden bridge. On the bank of the short, shallow river Chris paused, surveying the ground and after a moment he squatted down.

Buck moved closer to Chris where he was kneeling on the sodden ground, down by the steep bank of the marginally flowing water. He didn't say anything, just waited to hear what he was thinking and after a long moment Chris shared his thoughts.

"SWAT's not gonna like it, but I reckon this is a good spot for an ambush."

Buck's eyebrows rose as he studied the water. "_In_ the water?"

Chris stood, making a futile effort to sweep the mud from his knees. "Yep."

"They're gonna love ya for that. It's freezin' out here."

"Yep. Still. Good place to hide."

"_If_ they come through this way they won't see it comin', I'll give ya that."

They moved off again and after a few minutes they could make out the silhouettes of JD and Nathan and Buck started moving forward at a faster pace, a low chuckle escaping his throat.

"_Buck."_

The only answer he got was a grin shot back toward him.

"Buck, don't do it, the kid'll have a heart attack, or worse, a loud one."

Buck again glanced back at Chris, but seeing JD standing all alone by a long line of gravestones, looking out over the dark, foggy cemetery with a slighty worried expression on his young face was irresistible to him. He crept up quietly and despite the open space around the young agent managed to get a heavy hand down on his shoulder before the kid was aware he'd snuck up.

"ARGH!"

Chris was impressed that Dunne managed to turn and take up a defensive position, in obvious spite of the terror Buck's hand coming down on his shoulder had brought him. He shook his head. _Boys_.

"Jesus Buck, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Now _you_ might wanna check out that toilet paper warehouse kid," Buck chuckled, deeply amused. It seemed there was an endless supply of toilet paper jokes at his disposal and he planned to use every one of them.

Having seen Buck approach and not given JD the heads up Nathan laughed, looking over at Chris, who shook his head despite the grin on his face.

They moved off through the cemetery, checking through the maintenance shed once more as they passed and pausing as they came to the open graves.

"You really think they'll shoot it out, right here in the open?" JD asked, staring down at the open holes.

"You never know with these idiots, JD," Buck said. "Let's just hope if that does happen that they only manage to kill themselves."

They moved respectfully around four freshly covered graves and after a few more minutes met up with Ezra and Josiah at the main entrance, the 'waiting square' as it was called, the area where mourners gathered before proceeding to the burial in a procession through the grounds.

"Chris, I spoke with Murphy. He's going to stay out at the complex, oversee the raid. He doesn't want anything to mess up. Thomas is almost here with his team and Riker has just left base," Josiah told him.

"Okay." Chris checked his watch again. 7.20. He'd leave it to Thomas to brief the SWAT teams. He had a better relationship with them and Chris knew it wasn't going to be an easy sell getting some of their men to lie in wait in the river. "Now we wait."

..

Vin had watched the sky lighten and the swirling fog slowly dissipate and welcomed the sun's warmth on his too cold skin. He checked his watch. 7.50. Still early, but late enough that the SWAT team should be pretty much in place and the DEA all in position. Chris and the rest of the team would be nearby, nervous, ready. JD would be bouncing on his feet, Buck slapping him upside the head. Nathan would be hovering, that worried expression on his face that seemed permanently fixed there. Josiah would be trying to compact his massive frame into a position of cover and Chris... Chris would be still, quiet, contemplating. His eyes were keen and the man was calculating. He'd be wondering if he had it all covered, knowing there was no way to do that.

From the second he'd met the man, spotted him that night that seemed so long ago now, he'd sensed an ally. It was as if they shared the same purpose in life. Chris's sense of justice rivalled his own, but he was a man of his own making. Both of them were on the right side of the law but Vin knew they both courted the darker side. They both had their demons, and they both wanted to make things right. For the first time since he could ever remember, Vin wished for more for himself. He could almost taste the sense of belonging that he felt when he was with his team. What would it really feel like to have this behind him, to have these men at his back?

Time passed him slowly but he remained still and calm. The sounds of morning traffic and city coming to life passed him by as he waited. Watching. Avoiding thinking. Finally his patience was rewarded with a rumble far off in the distance, the first stirring of chrome piping in the morning air rising above the rest of the muffled traffic. He looked at his watch. 9.00am. Show time.

..

As the noise of bikes became steadily louder Vin began to make out movement in the distance. He had been concentrating on the sound of the bikes so was surprised to see the outline of dark shadows creeping along the ground within the cemetery. After a few more minutes he made out two men creeping through the headstones amongst the last wisps of mist and watched them carefully, lying flat against the roof, his keen eyes taking everything in.

That they were sneaking was obvious by the way they crouched, looking around and darting from spot to spot. He watched them move his way, towards the three open graves and then beyond. He flattened himself, worried they were headed his way when suddenly they darted off, heading to his right, toward where Rob had taken up his position. He didn't bother to communicate to the man, knowing he would have seen them from his own vantage point. The noise of the bikes grew louder. It was the main procession. It was earlier than he'd expected, but they would gather beyond the front gates, perhaps for half an hour while they dismounted and waited for everyone to arrive.

He listened as voices flitted across his earpiece. There was still no sign of the Texas riders. Twenty had joined the procession, which was around a hundred men strong, with more civilians gathering at the waiting area.

The sneaking men disappeared from his view, disappearing inside the shed and he heard Rob relay the information over his ear piece.

..

Chris was surrounded by more men than he actually planned for, courtesy of Murphy sending another team in out of concern that Chris needed more backup. A growing crowd of civilians had taken over the waiting square, staying away from the massive police presence. News crews had set up their positions behind the police barricades, all scrambling for the better shot. The air space had been restricted so thankfully no news helicopters were hovering overhead.

He shared a look with Buck, seeing his old friend was as ready as he was, then took stock of the rest of his team, all spread around him, surrounded by Murphy's loaned men. The SWAT team that _wasn't_ currently pissed at him for sending them into the freezing, murky river water to wait for anything that may or may not happen at the rail side border of the grounds, were also in position around the cemetery.

They had the entire cemetery surrounded. There was no way the men were getting in there without getting through them and no way they were getting out either. Now the only problem was making sure they didn't get a chance to open fire.

..

Vin watched more men head towards the shed and after a long wait he finally discovered what it was they were up to. He was voicing the news a heartbeat later. Six men had left the shed and each of them was carrying a weapon. Vin shook his head, they must have stockpiled them to avoid the weapons checks at the gates and somehow nobody had found them. How they had concealed them he didn't know for he'd watched Larabee himself enter that shed just a few hours prior. They remained just outside it, still hidden and by the road that the procession would be riding down to get to the grave site in only a short time. Vin thought the plan was to palm the weapons to the bikers, but it might have been to take out some of the Texans riding with the procession. Either way, he didn't plan on giving them that chance if it came down to it.

The sound of bikes grew louder as more men joined the others gathering outside and Vin looked at his watch again, anxious that there were now armed bikers beneath him. To his relief, he heard the communications of the SWAT team as they moved in to the location he'd given. As stealthy as they were, Vin was looking for them and from his position he could appreciate the bending formation they took as they came up on the armed men. It was over in seconds and more importantly, there hadn't been a sound. He shifted his focus back to the area ahead, beyond the open graves and a moment later heard the unmistakable sound of a train approaching from the south.

..

Chris heard the report from the SWAT team stationed by the river that a train had come into view and a moment later could hear it for himself. He could almost see it as the team reported it slowing down, reaching the platform by the bridge and stopping. A long, slow minute passed and finally a few people disembarked. Namely the driver and one other man. It was a cargo train, although not long. There were only four metal containers lining it's carriage and they were old and battered.

The team of police stationed in the open by the bridge and the gate to the cemetery stepped forward, approaching the two men and satisfying themselves that they were unarmed. They then asked to inspect the cargo to which the men advised that the train was on it's way to pick up cargo and was empty, but to go ahead. The two men waited casually, lighting cigarettes and sharing the contents of a thermos of coffee near the bridge, appearing to admire the morning view as they waited.

Chris listened as the police officer's reported the front two carriages empty, followed by the third. Finally a voice informed them the fourth and last carriage was also empty and Chris let out the tense breath he'd held in.

..

Vin watched the SWAT team lead the detained, now unarmed, bikers away and then heard the report that the procession was reaching the last checkpoint before the main gate. The noise of the thundering engines was becoming deafening and Vin found it was getting harder to hear the voices clearly through his headset.

He listened as more and more bikers were cleared through the last checkpoint, the twenty Texan riders that had been reported the night before with them and then finally he could see the bulk of black metal and leather as it approached down the main street toward him up in the far distance. They were riding two abreast on the narrow road, headlights shining. Before they disappeared out of his site, hidden by the main building at the entrance, he could make out the first coffin, riding alongside the specially made frame on the lead bike.

What worried him was the absence of the rest of the Texan chapter. There should have been a lot more bikes. It made sense that they'd ride in separately, given the state of things, but where were they? He'd been partly convinced they would be on the train. The Denver procession had reached the main entrance and within another minute the deafening noise was cut off. They would now gather together in the waiting square and wait for the funeral directors to motion them forward to start the walk behind the three coffins to the grave site.

The checkpoints all reported that the roads were clear and the procession began a minute later. Once started, the long line of bikers, followed by civilians, began to wind through the slow walk through the grounds to the waiting graves.

Vin watched them proceed forward, no more than small shadows at the far distance he was at. As they progressed he used his scope, searching through the men, looking for any familiar faces. After long minutes he saw Warren Lance and beside him, as always, Judd. He wished for a second he could squeeze the trigger and rid himself of that particular problem.

It would take them time to reach the grave site and as they moved there was suddenly a report that four large coach buses were approaching the area. Vin could almost feel the tension on the ground from the teams all present. Unfactored scenarios were never welcome. He listened as men reported the buses splitting up, each taking different entrances and a moment later it was revealed that the buses were in fact loaded with men. Men bearing the insignia of not just the Texan Joker's but several other clubs as well.

Vin felt his heart rate escalate. He'd known they would come, but there had been a part of him that had wished for a different outcome. Four large coaches meant there had to be at least 50 men on each, whether they were armed or not that meant by sheer numbers alone they would have the advantage over the Denver club. He listened as the radio chatter increased as the unexpected number of newcomers were ushered through the checkpoints and searched thoroughly.

..

Chris ground his jaw. Nobody had considered the possibility of the men arriving like this. It was unexpected and above all, not in his control. Vin had predicted that the Texans would gather a force on their way through and he'd been right. Now not only were the Denver bikers outnumbered, the officers and government agents were outnumbered within the grounds. The fact that his side was armed was a consolation, but it didn't make the situation any less volatile. He was thankful that weapons had already been confiscated but wasn't ready to believe that would be the end of their effort to arm themselves.

..

Vin could see the procession progressing to the grave sites and realised that they had no idea that the Texas chapter had arrived behind them. If the situation wasn't so dire, he could almost smile at that. The bastards certainly had it coming.

It took long minutes but finally the crowd converged on the grave sites and began to jostle for positions and it was then that they began to notice that men were starting to appear from all around them, heading towards the service from all gates as they were let through. The unease was obvious as men turned to look around them. They would soon be surrounded completely by the mass of men. Vin wondered if anyone had noticed yet that their guns had not made their way to them courtesy of the SWAT team arresting their delivery boys. He began to look through his scope intently, searching the new arrivals for familiar faces and seeing many he knew. As they moved further towards the burial site he picked out Sugar's back and with a slight shock, saw that Ivan was beside him, with Charlie a step away. He scanned the rest, searching for Eddie, not really expecting to find him.

On the ground the somewhat frazzled funeral directors moved on with the service, completely aware of the escalated tension all around them. They began the short grave site ceremony and were almost positive that they could have said anything at that point, for no one was listening to them. The men were tense, ready, like snakes about to strike. The lead director sped through his words and was relieved when the coffins were lowered into the ground. A moment later, the world shook.

Vin gripped the ledge before him as the ground literally shook and he looked out in shock to see what had made the massive noise. He was just in time to see the giant fireball that was now rising above the building ahead of him and a moment later, a second explosion rocked the ground, followed quickly by two more and after just a moments pause, four more in quick succession.

..

Chris took yet another look around him as the coffins were lowered simultaneously when suddenly the ground shook and a blast shattered the morning sky. All men around him dropped to the ground and turned looking up, all witness to the massive ball of fire that rose out beyond the roof of the main building behind them.

"What the hell?!" Buck said, lifting his head to the sight. He looked at Chris, who was giving him an intense look. "Oh come on, I was right here!"

Chris didn't spare him a glance. His bad feeling had just gotten a lot worse and when a second explosion rent the air he knew it was just the beginning.

..

By the fourth rapid explosion Vin knew what was happening. It was a diversion. Every man inside the Texans rough circle had turned in shock with the noise but the outer ring of men did not move. That told him right away who was behind it. Four buses, four explosions and then a moment later, what he knew was four train carriages. The Texans didn't hesitate, they dove right in, not letting the fact that they were unarmed get in the way from finding men to kill with their bare hands.

Vin tried to ignore the frantic calls on the radio shouting for the fire department as the flaming wreckage began to grow out of control and head for nearby cars and buildings. There were casualties, that much he could hear. The blasts had been too fierce for bystanders to not have gotten caught. Chaos. Exactly what Eddie excelled at. He sighted through his scope, seeing men fighting fiercely and wondering if he was better off on the ground. Shooting unarmed men was not something he was prepared to do... a moment later he realised his position wasn't wasted after all.

To his complete astonishment he watched as one of the freshly filled graves literally exploded, followed by another, then the remaining four that were in the close vicinity. A second later he could only stare in shock as men emerged and worse, they were armed and opening fire before Vin could blink. He reacted swiftly, firing his first shot and seeing it go wide into a tree before adjusting his aim accordingly, his second closely followed shot taking out the first armed man he aimed for. Ignoring the pain the recoil drove into his still healing shoulder he moved on, looking for his next target even as he heard the sound of Rob's rifle exploding twice also before another man fell. He searched for the next target and quickly realised they were surrounded by men and he had no clear shot. The four remaining armed men had automatic weapons and were firing rapidly into the body of men and Vin realised they were taking down Texans and their associate clubs and leaving the Denver men standing. Still, he had no clear shot.

He adjusted his aim and was rewarded in another moment with an opening. The man he sighted was cutting down men in a frenzy, they were falling all around him and still he continued to fire until Vin pulled his own trigger once, ending his killing spree. That left three and he struggled to get another clear shot. He aimed at another armed man, watching two men fighting that blocked his aim and made a decision. He fired, hitting the arm of one of the fighting men and as they fell together in a tangle he re-aimed and took another shot, taking out the shooter. Quickly he replaced his magazine as he heard Rob's gun explode again with three shots in succession.

He eyed the final shooter, aware of the sheer number of bodies that had been culled to the ground as he took aim. The angle would never afford him the shot and he grimaced as the shooter kept firing. A moment later he saw the man jerk forward, shot from behind as the agents on the ground took him out.

The lull in gunfire was sudden and it seemed to amplify the noise of the frantic voices that came through his ear. Officer's were down, caught in the blasts, more had been injured by stray bullets from the shooters below. A news van parked next to one of the coaches had caught fire in the explosion, killing two crew members. The reports kept coming in and to Vin, it was as if the scene slowed down. The sun was hiding behind low cloud but there had been no rain that day. That didn't mean the ground wasn't completely saturated from the night before. The Texans had lost their advantage of numbers swiftly when the gunmen had opened fire and now men were fighting hand to hand, slipping on the slick ground, their clothes and skin covered in dark mud as they fought and then tried to run in vain from the agents converging on them.

He was still staring down at the battle when the sound of Larabee's voice requesting a check in made him blink. He knew it was time to give up his position after he'd given it away so thoroughly. He took a moment to check in, grabbed his rifle and headed for the thin ladder that would take him down to the ground, hearing Agent Pearce check in also as he moved.

..

As the noise of the explosions had died away Chris had made a swift decision and called for backup, of the military kind. Handling armed bikers was one thing, civilians being blown up in the streets was another level of security entirely. This was terrorism and this demanded a swift and brutal response.

All agents moved forward toward the quickly escalating fight before them but were driven back a moment later as to their total shock, six men sprang out of nowhere and started spraying bullets into the mass. They took cover wherever they could and tried to get clear shots of the shooters, but it was impossible with the wall of fighting men blocking them. Moments later they heard the crack of rifles and the confirmations from both Vin and Agent Pearce as they took out the men from above. The final shooter was brought down by a SWAT sniper on the mausoleum roof and the men brawling all began to run.

They held their position a moment longer, needing to ensure the shooters were no longer a threat even though it meant the bikers were breaking up around them. Chris spoke to Riker, head of the DEA's second unit, who he knew would be approaching from the East, over the radio.

"Larabee." Came the response. "We've just made out one of your men up ahead of us. Tell him he needs to find a bigger tree."

Chris glanced sideways at Josiah, who had tried to make himself smaller without success. Before he could say anything the ex-preacher had caught JD around the scruff of the neck and pulled him down beside him again. The youngest of their team had popped up like a meerkat trying to take a look at what was ahead.

"JD," Chris hissed, seeing the dark head and eyes turn towards him sheepishly. "You pop your head up again without my order and I will shoot you my damn self. You hearin' me?" He thought he'd drilled it into the kid enough after the last time, but obviously not.

Wincing, JD saw Buck shaking his head at him and turned back to face forward, Josiah like a menacing force beside him, threatening to plant him in the earth if he jumped up again.

"How's it look from your end?" Chris asked Riker.

"They're scattering towards the river. There's a lot of them holing up in the two maintenance sheds. If you go wide now you might have a shot at them. I'll head out on your signal."

"On my signal then." Chris agreed, nodding to his team and then using hand signals to direct their next movements.

They moved forward as one, Chris, Josiah, Buck and Nathan, all seasoned soldiers, compensating for JD's lack of field experience by flanking him and covering his position without Chris having to say a word. If JD was aware of their unspoken tactic he said nothing, too busy focusing on what lay ahead to be aware of such subtle movements around him.

The bikers had indeed scattered and were still shooting off in all directions, some still fighting each other even as officers and agents moved in and subdued them. Chris pressed forward and in another minute they had approached the first shed and on Chris's signal Nathan moved forward to a nearby tombstone and crawled along the ground to get a look. He signalled back; there were no men behind the shed, but three were taking cover further up. Moving back he spoke to Chris.

"There's a crypt up ahead beyond the shed. Has wrought iron at the front. There's more men holed up in there."

"Alright. Resume your position."

He waited for Nathan to move back ahead and then got down on his belly. He began to crawl along the ground as Nathan had, heading out form the cover he'd taken before stopping and scanning the scenario from his new position. Nathan's description had been exact and he knew he could take them from his location.

With threats and warnings all around it wasn't until tear gas was fired from Riker's team that the men gave up the fight.

When a large group of bikers managed to make it as far as the river bank Chris felt a moment's justification when the SWAT lying in wait were able to use their position and apprehend them all before they could cross. Many of the SWAT team that had been positioned there had left their positions when the train had exploded but there were still a few remaining and it had paid off.

As men continued to be rounded up Chris moved back toward the burial site where it had begun, shocked by the carnage. From his vantage the bodies were thick and deep. It looked like a scene from a war movie, a nightmare. Fire and rescue were converging, sirens blaring through the streets and smoke was still billowing up into the sky. He called for everyone to report in, relieved when he heard Vin's voice as he had no visual on him, all the while aware that outside the gates the devastation was just being accounted for. His hand flexed over his gun, still in his hand and for a moment he wished he had a living target to shoot. These men were no more than animals and they weren't going to walk out of this. As much as he hated this part of things it was now his job to make sure everything was handled by the book. He wanted no mistakes when it came to these men having to pay for what they'd done.

..

Vin moved down as the noise of a helicopter approached and glancing up he realised it was military issue. They'd called in the big guns. The glance, however, cost him as he saw, too late, movement from his left. At the same time he heard Rob's voice call a warning to him he saw a flash of silver and that was all he knew. He was out before his head connected with the solid paving beneath him.


	28. For Whom The Bell Tolls

Chapter 28. For Whom The Bell Tolls

_Take a look to the sky just before you die  
It is the last time you will  
Blackened roar massive roar fills the crumbling sky  
Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry _

_(Metallica – For Whom The Bell Tolls)_

Chris knew he wasn't leaving the area any time soon. The mess was phenomenal and the atmosphere was still frantic. There were casualties on both sides and the wounded were being taken out and loaded into ambulances. There had been injured civilians from the blasts as well as casualties amongst the police officers positioned outside. The only positive thing that could be said was that at least the blasts had been relatively contained and had not spread, beyond the one news van that had got caught in a blast.

The most time consuming part now would be determining the charges against the men and making them stick. The men who had carried out the killings with automatic rifles had all been killed themselves but it would be hard work to pin the explosions on someone. The bomb squad had arrived with forensics and the goal now would be to keep everyone out of their way. The train and coach drivers were being questioned together with everyone working at the cemetery including the funeral directors. The fact that weapons had been concealed on the grounds and men had managed to hide not only weapons but themselves as well inside the fake graves without anyone reporting it meant somebody inside the cemetery had to be involved. With Vin and Pearce in position most of the morning, they had to have set the graves up earlier and it would have taken time to organise it.

As Chris began co-ordinating men based on the information he was given he was surprised to hear Agent Pearce call a frantic warning to Vin, who had only just checked in again. The words were cut off a second later and then there was silence. Surrounded by members of Riker's team and several police officers, Chris searched for Buck and saw him approaching with Josiah, having heard the communication.

"Vin, report," Chris said, gesturing for the men around him to wait a moment. "Pearce, are you there?" When there was no reply he looked back at Buck.

"Take some men, check out their last position." He wanted to go himself, but the amount of men demanding his attention deemed that impossible at that moment.

..

Buck and Josiah moved out with four of Liker's team, Riker included, heading toward the large crypts some distance away. As they approached Riker whistled softly.

"It's further than it looks," he said. "That was some fine shooting they managed from here."

Buck had to agree. They'd barely been able to make out the details of the structures from the main area. They reached the base of the first crypt and moved around, instantly springing forward when they saw a body lying on the ground.

"It's Rob," one of the men said, kneeling beside him.

They could see the blood that was pooling on the ground around him as the kneeling agent searched for a pulse and looked up.

"He's alive."

Riker called for paramedics and informed Chris what they had found just as the fallen agent started to come around.

"Take it easy," Riker told him, locating the large bump on the back of the man's head and the cut that went with it.

Pearce blinked up at them all for a long moment before his eyes began to focus.

"Jesus Christ... what hit me?"

"Was hopin' you could tell us that," Riker told him.

Pearce stared up at the Captain blankly and just when it appeared he wouldn't be answering he finally blinked.

"Oh man... Tanner." Pearce started to try and push himself up and Riker held him down.

"Take it easy! What about Tanner?"

He leant back on the ground, wincing when his head came to rest on the concrete beneath him.

"Bikers... waiting for him on the ground... Tried to warn him..."

Buck swore, turning to look around him, looking for any sign of Vin.

"He was up on the other roof," Pearce went on. "Didn't see what happened, they got me before I could get to him."

"It's alright, you did what you could. Just rest back."

Riker stood, ordering one of his men to wait with Pearce while he followed after Agent Wilmington, who had begun to search toward the other crypt.

This time there were no bodies on the ground but on inspection Josiah found a small patch of blood on the pavement beneath the ladder. Riker climbed the ladder with Buck, finding the spent magazine on the roof as evidence that Vin had been there, but otherwise it was deserted. They went back down and Buck shared a grim look with Josiah before he informed Chris what they'd found.

..

Chris listened to Buck's report and could not stop the fear that tightened in his gut. The bikers had taken Vin and they hadn't asked politely. They'd taken down Pearce and that meant they might have connected Vin with him. He was in serious trouble.

"The clubhouse is compromised," Nathan said, looking at his watch and knowing that Murphy's men would have moved in half an hour ago. "They would have to know that by now, so where would they take him?"

Chris took a deep breath and let it out, running a hand through his short blonde hair. Both tells that he was worried. "They can't get far," he said, "even if they got out of the grounds there's no way of bypassing the checkpoints." He deliberated just a moment longer before taking action. The wounded were being helped, the bikers were being handled and taken away, the damage outside was being attended to and contained. He levelled a serious look at Nathan and then made the decision. He radio'd the SWAT leader. "I need every available man, we have an agent missing, we need to search every inch of this place and co-ordinate a search of the buildings along the rail line."

Nathan's eyebrows lifted. Vin's undercover operation was over, whatever else happened.

_**..**_

Vin became aware of the pounding in his skull long before it registered that everything was completely black, despite the fact that his eyes were open. He felt a vibration around him, like he was moving and felt around himself. He was lying on something soft, a satin-like material that was padded beneath his probing fingers. His mind made half of the connection even before his hand reached up above him almost immediately to feel the same type of padded material right above him. _God no._

He continued his exploration, his hands a little more desperate now but they told him the same story. He was in a tight space, a padded box. _Coffin_. What the hell?He tried to get his breathing under control, tried to picture himself anywhere but where he was but the fact was, his head was pounding in time to his escalating heart rate and he was sucking in oxygen like a man suffocating. Literally.

_Calm the fuck down, Tanner. You're moving, you're not in the ground. Your air's not gonna run out any time soon. This thing can't be that air tight._

But the air tasted thick to him and the movement continued for longer than he could count. How long he'd been out he had no idea. The back of his head was on fire, split open from whatever had crushed into his skull with blunt force and he could feel the wetness of blood against the slick padded material. _A flash of silver. A gun._

The movement stopped with a sudden jolt and he braced himself as well as he could, hearing a grating noise and muffled voices from above. He was moving again and he heard a muted voice and then the movement stopped a moment again before continuing on. He was angled, going downwards so that his boot heels were braced against the bottom of the casket and then with another jolt the movement stopped again. They'd put him down and he tried his damnedest not to picture that he was now resting in the ground somewhere. He waited, tempted to start trying to push up at the lid with everything he had but his gut told him it was about to open anyway. And when it did, fucked if he wasn't going to come up swinging. He readied himself, biding his time, gathering his strength as the voices finally stopped and he felt the lid move.

When it came up enough he used his legs, getting his filthy boots up and pushing up as hard as he could and was gratified to see two men thrown back in surprise. He was launching over the edge and swinging before they could recover from the shock. He barely registered Judd Lidlow as the man went down under his right hook before he turned on his knee, twisted further to his left and let his right fist connect with Warren Close's jaw. The man flew backwards, into a pew behind him, his head cracking the solid timber bench with a sickening thud before he dropped like a stone to the marble floor.

Vin then divided his attention between the two remaining men. Judd, who had regained his feet unsteadily and who he now recognised to be Jake. Both were looking at him like they wanted to kill him where he stood. He could hear voices of more men beyond the main room.

"What the fuck is this?!" he demanded, still poised to fight, but the pain in his skull was threatening to drive him to his knees and his vision was off. He felt his stomach roll as the room moved slowly even though he remained still.

Jake grinned and Vin realised he wasn't looking the least worried. Whatever was happening, they had a plan. He looked around quickly and felt the room spin faster. Beyond the small room they were in he could see more pews and an alter. A chapel. They must still be at the graveyard.

"We're just helping you get out of here. You should be grateful."

Vin looked again from Judd to Jake, weighing his options as two men entered the space and moved through the chapel towards them. He glanced back at them, body still turned to the bikers and saw that they were funeral directors, or were posing as some.

"They're ready," one of them men said, eyeing the situation warily. "They've parked outside. They'll come in and take you out soon as they unload the stretchers."

"Okay, just give us a sec to box him back up and you can take him," Jake said, grin still in place. "And this time, seal the lid properly."

Vin glanced from Jake's grin to the open coffin against his will, his vision blurring all round and the contents of his stomach threatening to rise up. He knew a concussion when he felt one, and this was going to be a mother, if he lived long enough to have to worry about it.

"Don't worry, you're not going far," Jake told him in a mock soothing voice.

Vin tensed as the men moved closer and a second later was shocked to see two uniformed officers enter the room. His sudden bad feeling was confirmed when they nodded at Jake.

"Thought you'd be gone by now," the larger of the two said.

"Just had some unexpected business to take care of," Jake nodded at Vin, who watched as the second officer reached for the taser at his belt.

"You boys are missin' out on all the action," Vin said, his voice rough and low. "Think maybe you're confused about what you're meant to be doin' here."

The larger officer turned to him and took out his own taser. "No, I think it's pretty clear." He looked at Jake. "You want us to take him in? Or you want something a bit more permanent than that."

Vin scowled. Traitorous sons of bitches. He committed their faces to memory and took in the names on their shirts. _Jones and Ryant._

"No, Billy will be wanting to have a good chat to him I'm sure. The boys here are going to deliver him for us, all boxed up. You can make sure they get through the gate."

The officers looked to the two funeral directors, then piecing it together they looked to the coffin and Vin. Jones, the larger man, smiled. "That could work." He turned to Vin and Vin looked from the taser now readied in his hand to Jake.

"Glad to see you still like to keep things fair."

Jake just chuckled as he nodded to the men, who stepped towards Vin. "Kid, I'm too old to worry about fair." Suddenly the smile left his face. "And you gave up the rights to fair when you and your friend back there took to that roof and started shootin' on your brothers, _brother_."

Vin felt his chest tighten. Pearce. And he could deny it all he wanted, they had obviously found the man. Before he could dwell any further on what that now meant for him and what conclusions they had made Ryant came up closer in his space and fired, but at the last second he managed to dodge the attack that he had been watching for and avoid the prongs that shot out at him. The quick motion, however, threw him off balance and he overstepped, feeling his world spin as he reached out to steady himself with the edge of the coffin. Even at the top of his game this would have been a bad situtation but with his head ready to implode he knew he had a slim to none shot of getting out of there.

A second later Jones fired and he felt the taser's barbs reach his side, not managing to pierce his skin through his movement and clothing. The slight shock made him flinch back automatically and he was suddenly rammed to the ground by Jake. The powerful man used his weight to slam him down and he was on his stomach in a flash. He felt the back of his shirt lifted and a second later the taser was held to his bare lower back.

It wasn't the first time he'd experienced it, but in his current state it didn't take much to incapacitate him. He felt the charge course through him, the burn as the apparatus was held to his flesh and the electricity as it worked it's way through his muscles. They held him down far longer than necessary and by the time Jake moved his weight from his back he could only watch through glazed eyes as they stepped away from him. For a moment his blurred focus fell on Jake's boots, standing before his face. Black, gleaming boots, silver buckles at the sides... lifting the worst memory of his life to the fore. He lost focus on the words drifting around him, his vision staring blankly at those black, ominous weapons.

"Well that was fun. Put him back in, we gotta get the hell out of here."

He felt rough hands grabbing him, felt himself being lifted off the floor a moment before he was thrown back inside the silk lining of the coffin on his back. The last thing he registered was Ryant's face in his view and the impassive set of the man's features as he closed the lid on him.

Darkness once again filled his vision and in spite of his unresponsive body his mind still tried to focus. He knew he had to start thinking, start getting his head back in the game. He should be worried about what was going to happen when he was delivered to Billy, there was a distant part of him that knew that... but his battered skull seemed to have hit the pause button. Regardless of the pitch black that surrounded him he clearly saw the outline of those boots. The beginning and end of all his nightmares.

..

Half an hour after they had taken Agent Pearce away in the back of an ambulance they were no closer to discovering where Vin had vanished to. Men were pouring over the area and fanning out, looking for any clues as to what had happened. Judging by the blood they'd found at Vin's last known location, it appeared he didn't have a chance to struggle as they'd moved him.

Chris was back near the main gate, speaking on the phone with Murphy as he watched a squad car move out ahead of an ambulance, followed a moment later by a hearse. Murphy's men had seized the compound and were going through everything they could find. The information Vin had given them had led to them finding a storage room underground that was filled with files and a computer system that his men were currently searching. He was confident they would find what they needed to back up the witnesses they had from the facility.

The one thing they didn't find was Billy. He hadn't been out there and there were no reports of seeing him at the funeral. Eddie either for that matter, but that was no surprise to anyone.

Several minutes later he ended the conversation with Murphy at the same moment that an officer approached him, looking frazzled.

"What is it?"

"We just had a call come in, one of the vans transporting prisoners was in an accident. It overturned."

Chris shook his head. Nothing surprised him at this point. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Officer Grear, the driver, was killed and the four bikers in the back escaped. We've sent men out to search the area but we don't have the full details yet. Grear's partner, Officer Rice, is unconscious and still pinned inside."

Chris's mouth was a grim line as he dismissed the officer. "Keep me informed." He shook his head as the officer walked off and the rest of the team reached him. By their expressions he knew nothing new had turned up on Vin and his whereabouts.

"I don't understand," Chris said in frustration. "If he's still here we should be able to find him. If he's gone, how the hell did they get him out?" He knew that Vin was in serious trouble and the longer he was missing the worse his chance of getting out of the situation alive.

"And if they _have_ taken him out, where did they go?" JD said.

Buck thought about the first night he'd met Vin. "The bar? Over in Purgatory? We got anyone watching it?"

Chris looked at him thoughtfully, the frown on his face threatening to become permanent. He called Murphy back and asked him the same thing, his frown deepening further when the answer came back in the negative.

"We should have had it covered," he said, angry at himself.

"They don't have much else left to go back to that we know about," Buck said grimly.

"But how would they get out of here in the first place?" Nathan said.

"Whoever helped them get the guns and men inside might be able to answer that," Buck said, still amazed at how the bikers had buried themselves in shallow false graves and remained there until the opportune time to create complete mayhem. "I know all the staff here have been checked and re-checked, but someone's obviously keeping some secrets."

Ezra was looking pensive as he stared out at a fire truck parked by the burnt wreckage of the nearest coach.

"Riker's team is questioning the funeral directors. Since one of them was taken down in the gunfire though, we can only assume they wouldn't have been standing there if they'd known what was going to go down," Nathan said.

"They're rounding up the groundskeepers again too," JD said.

"What about the ambulances?"

Chris looked sharply at Ezra. "What about them? Each had a police escort."

Ezra nodded, his slow drawl belying the severity of his words. "And we all know how men's loyalties can be purchased."

Chris thought about the vehicles that had just left the grounds. Suddenly he turned back and looked at the gates. "What the fuck was a hearse doing leaving here..."

"What hearse?" Buck asked.

"I just saw a hearse leave after an ambulance. There were no other funerals scheduled for this morning and the bikers used bikes to bring their coffins in..." He turned suddenly towards Nathan. "I need to find out who checked it and where was it going." He tried to picture the vehicle, seeing again the two men in suits in the front and realising he hadn't noticed if there was a coffin in the back.

"The director is still in the main office," Nathan provided.

"Good, go see what he knows." Chris then turned to Buck. "Find out what officers were escorting the hearse and that ambulance and where it's heading. Tell them to stop immediately and wait for further instruction."

"What about the bar?"

Chris's eyes narrowed. "I have a feeling both will lead us to the same thing. I'll get onto SWAT and get it rolling."

Buck moved off and Chris stared after him for a moment. He had a gut feeling about that hearse and regretted that he was distracted when it had gone by him. He should have reacted sooner. Now, his lack of action might cost Vin.

"Where are you going?" Josiah asked him as he turned away.

"To charm that news reporter over there and see if they might have been recording when that hearse left. It looked like they were reporting as it left, we might get lucky."

Josiah followed him and five minutes later had to admit that his boss was pretty smooth. He had the woman bending over backwards for him in seconds to help him find what he wanted. She arranged for them to have a look at the recording in the back of the van, clearing the team out for the moment.

Chris ignored the woman standing before the camera chatting incessantly about nothing she knew about and focused on the gate behind him, waiting impatiently until the squad car appeared. A moment later the ambulance went through, followed by the hearse. Josiah made a note of the plates of each vehicle and the squad car number as Chris cursed beside him. He could clearly see a coffin through the glass of the hearse. He had no idea if you could rent a coffin for a cremation, which might explain one going back to a funeral parlour, but as there were no services scheduled for that morning, he didn't see how that explained it's presence anyway.

"I can't believe I let that go," he said to himself, shaking his head. He blinked, knowing self deprecation wasn't going to help Vin. He stood, motioning to Josiah to head out. "Let's see if Buck's found the officers doing the escort, if not, we have their number now." He knew it was still only a hunch at this point, but his gut was clearly telling him that he needed to pay attention to that strange mix of vehicles. "And let's get aerial support, check with the chopper that was overhead and see if they saw anything. We need to track them down."

Nathan found Chris talking to the police, Buck beside him. "I spoke to the manager and the funeral directors here. The manager confirmed there were no services scheduled and that he had no idea why a loaded hearse would be seen leaving the gates. As far as he knows, coffins only go through the gate one way... One of the directors says he saw the hearse, but that it wasn't from his company. There were no logo's on the side that he could see."

Chris nodded, he'd already seen that for himself. "He didn't think it was strange to see a hearse leaving here with a coffin inside?"

Nathan gave a wry smile. "He did, but he said it was no stranger than armed men jumping out of fresh graves and killing one of his co-workers... he's a bit screwed up at the moment, shock mostly."

Chris turned his attention back to the officer that had been trying to reach the squad car. The officer looked back at him with a grim expression.

"We can't raise the car."

Chris scowled. "Get a GPS location."

The officer looked surprised, like he hadn't thought of it and Chris made a note of the man's young age, biting his tongue. When the kid didn't move though, he grit out the word between his teeth.

"_Go."_

Buck chuckled as he watched the kid leave. "I see you're getting more patient in your old age."

"Have to, dealin' with you every damn day."

..

Some time later Vin was aware of feeling returning to his body slowly and painfully as if the energy were still running through his flesh. His back hurt where they had held the device and his head was pounding mercilessly. More than that he was thirsty, his mouth dry and his eyes gritty. He'd lost consciousness shortly after they had sealed him inside. He started to move, trying to orient himself and after several long minutes of staring at absolutely nothing it came to him where he was. Closing his eyes he felt the sweat bead his skin and his heart start to race yet again. It was as if the air grew thicker suddenly and the box he was in smaller. He tried not to touch the sides, tried to convince himself that he was in an open space, but the stale air that smelled of his own blood and sweat and the very warmth of it told him the truth.

There was no movement now, everything was completely still and silent. He bent his knees and felt them hit the lid, pushing up with his hands awkwardly to test the seal. It was solid and unmoving. They'd locked him in this time... or buried him...

With that thought his heart rate spiked even more. Jesus Christ had they buried him alive? With no sounds beyond his space and no specks of light through any cracks he had absolutely no way of knowing.

..

Chris turned from Ian Riker, having just listened as he told him that Agent Pearce was in surgery and wouldn't be helping them with any further information for a long while. Vin didn't have that kind of time to wait. Riker had briefed the SWAT team who were grouping together at that moment, almost ready to move out at the ATF Captains call. The young police officer was returning and his face looked grim.

"There's a problem with the GPS on the car."

Chris felt pressure building behind his eyes. He was going to start shouting, or shooting, if somebody didn't give him something to work with.

"But, we were able to locate the ambulance, although we can't raise the driver either."

"Where is it?"

"Across town, do you know where Purgatorio is?"

Chris took a long breath in. The bastards _had_ gotten out right in front of his own eyes and he'd missed it. He turned from the kid and back to Riker.

"Tell SWAT we're moving out. I need whoever you can give me from your team. I'm going to call Murphy and see what I need for clearance to hit the club's bar in Purgatorio."

Riker nodded. "Okay you make your call, I'll check on SWAT and round up my team, they're still not happy you put their boys in the water..."

"I'll make sure the officers of that squad car are located and held until we can question them," Josiah said, heading off to speak to the police Captain close by.

Chris waited for Murphy to pick up as Agent Thomas approached.

"He tell you Pearce is in surgery?" he asked.

"Yeah, I hope he comes through okay," Chris said, still hearing the phone ring out.

"You going after your man?"

Chris hung up and dialled again, this time calling Travis. He looked at the intent expression on Thomas's face. "You looking for payback?"

Thomas nodded. "My boys want to find the bastards that shot their teammate in the back. I'm sure you can understand that."

Chris smiled grimly. "That I can." He looked around. "Still, Riker's already getting his boys together, I'll need someone here to co-ordinate this mess, I was hoping you'd take care of it."

Thomas nodded. "I'll stay, but a few of my boys want to go with you if that's alright with you."

"The more the merrier." His call finally connected and seeing that, Thomas moved off leaving him to his conversation. "Judge Travis."

"Captain Larabee. You sure do like to leave a mark wherever you go son."

Chris grimaced. Two operations, seven bombs exploding. It had the makings of a bad Christmas Carol.

"Is the situation contained?"

"We have it in hand..." he went on to fill the Judge in on everything going on, including the suspected police and paramedic inside help.

"You think Tanner is at this bar?"

"I can't be sure, but I do know the paramedics ended up there, so it's all I have at the moment."

Travis was nothing if not decisive. "Go. Make sure you have enough backup. I'll track Murphy down."

"Thank you Sir."

Chris hung up and took another long breath. He hoped to God Tanner was there. If he wasn't he wasn't leaving until they told him where he was.

..

Vin lost track of time. After he'd first woken up he'd managed to keep himself awake for a while but he'd again found it impossible to keep his focus. He had no idea how long he lasted before the blow he'd taken to the head got the better of him again. The pain in his head was so severe that he was grateful for the respite of unconsciousness. By the time he roused himself long enough to contemplate yet again his situation, he had no idea the amount of time that had passed. It could have been hours or days.

Although his air was stale and thick, he did have enough rational thought left to realise the coffin wasn't air tight. If it was, or if he were buried underground, he thought he would have run out of air by then. He'd kicked against the sides and the lid and the noise that he made somewhat reassured him that he was above ground. He tried using his body to rock the casket, hoping to perhaps tip it over, but although he managed to move it slightly, he achieved nothing more than wearing himself out further. Again though, the movement told him he was not deep in soil and as long as he knew that, he could hold on to hope... and his sanity.

Every time he drifted he visualised one of the last things his eyes had seen, Jake's boots. Memories, never far from the surface, assaulted him. Time had dulled the memory of his childhood, but it took little to remind him of what had been. Jake was as guilty as Billy, as much a part of the childhood demons that plagued him as anyone else and more than ever he felt a burning inside of him for revenge. For his mother and for the situation he was currently in. He hoped he did see the bastard again. He'd make sure the last thing the prick saw was his own boots as they stomped the life out of him.

..

As Vin succumbed yet again to the consequences of his head wound, the rest of Team Seven were preparing to head out, each of them tense yet more than ready for the opportunity to find Vin and take what was left of the club down. As they got to their vehicles Chris's phone rang and he'd found an ecstatic Murphy on the line.

_'We've got him, Chris. We've got the bastard. We've got everything we need to shut him down and put him away for life. Whatever you're doing stop. Go find him and bring him in. I'll have the charges ready to lay out for him when we speak again.'_

Murphy hadn't realised Chris was already headed that way. Chris grinned as he hung up, appreciating the moment for what it was. For all the pain and anger that the club and the man heading it up had caused, it was going to be one hell of a moment when they arrested him. Having the authority to raid the premises was nothing compared to the knowledge that he had the right to lock up the president himself. All he had to do now was make sure that Tanner came out of the whole mess alive. Anything less than that was unacceptable.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N argh third time lucky i hope! FF wont let me post today for some reason! Sorry for the wait. RL got in the damn way. Thanks for the PM's of encouragement, I WILL get this finished now! It's on the home straight. It's getting a little more gory and violent, for those that don't like that.

**Chapter 29. The Eleventh Hour**

_And there's a full moon in the sky  
You hear a dog bark in the distance  
You hear someone's baby cry  
A rat runs down the alley  
And a chill runs down your spine  
And someone walks across your grave  
And you wish the sun would shine  
Cause no one's gonna warn you  
And no one's gonna yell attack  
And you don't feel the steel  
Till it's hangin' out your back _

_AC/DC Night Prowler_

Chris and his men had made such good time crossing town to get to the bar that they'd beaten the SWAT team over. Chris was now cursing, pacing on the uneven sidewalk, ready to storm inside. The ambulance, completely abandoned, sat before them, doors open in invitation for some enterprising criminal to come and strip her down to the bone. There was no sign of the hearse.

"Give them a second, Chris. We don't do this right it could cost him," Buck said, but he too was pacing.

Finally a van appeared, rounding a corner and heading their way and then another came up behind it.

They waited while the team readied themselves. They had no idea of the layout of the place but quickly found two entrances. The teams split and they prepared to enter, but they would not be storming into the place. This time they had a possible hostage and they would be playing it differently.

Chris had chosen the back once it was determined that would be an easier (and quicker) entry than the thicker wooden front door. He was waiting as one of the men picked the lock with amazing speed and they entered the building at the exact same moment as the remaining men stormed through the front. There was a moment of shouting and heavy boots on the boards beneath them. Then nothing. Not a whisper.

Chris took in the sight of the completely deserted bar in silent contemplation, letting the absence of human occupation sink in even as the repeated calls of 'Clear' sounded down the hallways as SWAT checked through the building with precision.

"Slippery mother fuckers," Buck swore, then looked at Chris. "We'll find him," he reassured.

Chris didn't acknowledge him. The need to smash something was overwhelming and so he did just that, overturning the first wooden table within his reach and tossing it violently into the table and chairs beyond. He'd told Tanner they'd have his back, that he was part of a team. Letting him face this alone was just not something he could live with.

The time spent horizontal in the darkness did nothing to quell the relentless pounding that was driving through Vin's skull. For a while he'd entertained the strong possibility that he'd sustained some real damage to his skull, but that had been some time ago. Coherent thought had long since fled and his time was now spent in a kind of twilight state where there was only the now. All that had come before and whatever lay ahead seemed just out of his reach.

By the time the lid was pulled open above him and light was flooded into his unprepared eyes he had lost all sense of time and urgency. He showed no resistance as they pulled him out without ceremony and dragged him to a chair, cuffing his ankles to strong metal crossbars that ran between the legs and tying his wrists down hard enough that even though his palms were turned upward he could not twist his hands to face them down. His first returning lucid thought was that he felt vulnerable with the white of his palms exposed like that and worse, he knew why they'd done it.

He quickly determined (with a violent lurch of his stomach), that turning his head left to right was not a good idea if he wanted to try and think straight, but as a dark shadow stepped up before him and he looked up, he realised looking up wasn't all that productive either. He closed his eyes, a thorough sweat washing out over his skin as the room kept moving slowly in a nauseating circle.

"Maybe we should shock him again, wake him up."

A low chuckle sounded and two names flitted through Vin's awakening mind. _Jones and Ryant._ They were so going down when he got out of this shit.

"Don't think he's got much left in him. The boys are nearly here and then we can get the fuck out of here."

"No, Levitz called a second ago when you were out back, wants us to meet up with him, make sure we're seen at the station before we head out."

"Shit. I really wanted to get home early, thought we could go home from here."

Vin let the conversation wash over him, realising there was no immediate threat and using the time to try and get a handle on his scrambled brain. The nausea was physical, he could deal with that at the moment if he kept very, very still, but whatever was causing it felt like a growing pressure on the side of his skull. Opening his eyes was acceptable if he squinted, but that was about as far as he was getting.

He'd been in bad situations too many times to count and knew that the mind was the most powerful tool at a man's disposal. Without that, he didn't have much chance of leaving the room, so he closed his eyes again and simply breathed, closing off the sounds of the traitorous assholes talking around him and pushing the sense of panic that was dogging him to the darkest recess of his mind and then further, outside his physical body, letting all thoughts leave him with each lengthened breath he took in. He cut loose the ties that bound him to the fear and helplessness that would get him absolutely nowhere and let his lungs simply draw in life. Breath by breath the pressure lifted from his chest and a sense of weightlessness began to filter in. As he'd learnt so long ago he began to draw in the white brilliance of a cleansing light between his closed eyes, feeling re energised as his breathing continued its steady rhythm without pause.

And to spite all that, he wasn't quite where he needed to be when he finally heard the sound of a door banging open and the sounds of boots scraping across a concrete floor. Deep voices accompanied the sounds and he knew, even before he opened his eyes, that he wasn't walking out of this. He was resigned, his mind still. He wasn't going to be able to control what they did to him now, physically he was at their mercy and he didn't think they had much of that in them, but his mind was still his own.

..

Only four blocks away Chris was sitting on the back ledge of the ambulance in the open doors. His expression was dark as he listened to the police officer stammering to try and explain to him how they could not locate their wayward officers. He'd tuned him out moments ago but the young fool had yet to realise that. Lucky for the kid Buck was onto it and steered the still jabbering young man away before Chris's inner pressure cooker reached scorching point.

"Do they think they can just get away with this?" Nathan said, leaning on the door and shaking his head. "Sooner or later they have to report back, do they think no-ones going to ask them questions here?"

There was a lengthy silence through which Chris's expression only grew darker. Finding that building empty had been like a physical blow. Every second that Tanner was missing reduced their chances of finding him alive and every breath he drew in felt like another second on a bomb ticking down.

JD approached, tucking his cell phone back in his pocket. "Agent Myers just called our office, apparently he's been trying to reach us."

"Myers?" Josiah asked.

"On Murphy's team," Chris told him. "Murphy assigned him to watch Levitz today." He turned to JD. "What's happened?"

"He says Levitz left his office about an hour ago, he's been acting weird all day. Went to see his lawyer and bank manager..."

"Strange day to get your affairs in order," Nathan put in.

"Unless your plannin' a hasty retirement," Ezra added pensively.

Josiah's suddenly sharp gaze went to Chris. "You think he knows about Vin?"

Nathan swore.. "After today, I think everyone knows we had an agent undercover."

"But would he know it's Vin?"

"If he does know Mr Tanner's identity, he would know his career is in jeopardy."

Chris took this all in. "So what would he do with this? Would he go to the bikers? Tell them about Vin? Or try and get to Vin himself?"

"Murphy said it wouldn't be long until Levitz's day came, maybe he knows his time was up regardless. But he would have to make sure the bikers knew he had nothing to do with Vin or he won't be retiring peacefully," Nathan said.

"And where does that leave those cops? Are they part of his posse?" JD asked.

"Where's Levitz now?" Chris asked JD. He didn't know if they were chasing their tails here, but it was something to go on. If Levitz really was tying up loose ends today then the bikers were a very big loose end. It made sense that he would go to them or at least know where his men took him.

JD held out a piece of paper where he'd written down the location of a restaurant just outside of the neighbourhood and Chris gave it a glance.

"Let's go."

..

The cold water that drenched his face and chest was cliched but effective none the less. Vin was shocked into a heightened wakefulness that had alluded him the moment preceding the gesture. He blinked the water from his eyes and peered up through his widened gaze, trying not to acknowledged the piercing pain the light drove through his retina's.

"So lets play a game..."

Vin watched as Billy drew up a chair and swung the back towards him, straddling it and leaning over the back of it into his face. There was no smirk on his face just a dark, serious expression that spoke of an intent to do harm.

"It's called, you tell me at what point the Feds bought you out and why you did it and I might let you live long enough to see my knife carve your heart out."

Vin tried to swallow down the dryness in his throat, his Adam's apple dipping painfully with the movement. When he spoke his voice sounded as damaged as he felt. "Don't spose anythin' I say at this points gonna stop you from doin' that."

Billy nodded, not denying it. "Can't even promise you I won't chop your hands off first."

Vin's jaw clenched, the fear he'd pushed down throwing itself to the surface in a heated flash. He didn't think about life without his hands, he didn't think he'd live through the blood loss, but sitting through the act as it was carried out terrified him. Billy would make sure he lived long enough to take it in. He weighed his options, knowing nothing could convince them he wasn't working for the wrong side. At this point he had pretty much one hope and it was a slim one. Delay long enough for some kind of rescue to happen, and focus Billy's rage elsewhere if he could. The question was, did he really have faith that Larabee and his new team would find him?

"I know what this looks like, but I ain't workin' for the feds."

"You an' that other agent had a matching pair of rifles and headsets that says diff'rent."

Vin cursed inside his head. He hadn't banked on Pearce being taken down. He could have passed the headset off as having listened in on the operation but he couldn't explain Pearce away. He knew then that there was nothing he could say that would sway them. They really did catch him red handed. They weren't stupid, he was positioned on the opposite side to the SWAT snipers, the shots had to have come from his location. Still...

"He was an old friend. I asked him to back me up. Two's better'n one right?"

"That would be okay if he was helping you do what I sent you there to do. I didn't ask you to be there so you could kill all my men!" Billy's tone revealed his terrible wrath as his words left him so that he spat the last into Vin's face, literally. He leant closer and Vin kept his gaze as steady as he could through eyes still blurring around the edges. "Tell me when they got to you." His mouth was a cruel sneer.

Vin swallowed again and made up his mind. He was going down, no talking his way out of it. He'd fired on Denver club members and taken them out and been caught in the act. He didn't regret it, would do it again given that he'd had no choice and if he hadn't done it a lot more men would have died down there. He'd always said he'd blow his cover if it came down to saving lives but if he was going down, he wasn't going down alone.

"When they arrested me over that girl."

Vin saw Billy's eyes widen in surprise at the blunt admission as he tried to piece it together. The large man leant back slightly in contemplation.

"So Sugar didn't get you out of that... you made a deal."

"That's not what you should be worried about. If I were you I'd be worryin' about why they wanted to go after me..." Stalling was all he could do.

He glanced beyond Billy at the men around the room and then to the walls and windows. He had no idea where he was, how in hell was Larabee going to find him? Was he even looking?

"Yeah? And why is that?"

Vin grinned. "Now that'd be too easy now, wouldn't it?"

Billy smiled in return and Vin thought it just might just be the coldest smile he'd ever seen. Without another word the man got up and walked out of the room nodding to another man that Vin didn't know to follow him. He heard them talking but couldn't make out their words and a moment later they came back in and now Jake was with them followed by Warren Close. Vin didn't spare the other men a glance, his eyes were on Billy and the long blade in his hand.

_Stall, stall, stall._ "You gotta know those cops that brought me here are loyal to Levitz, but Levitz sure ain't loyal to you. He knows you were gonna take him out, who do you think set me up with that gun? That was standard police issue."

Billy paused at that and after a moment exchanged a quick glance with two men behind him who promptly left the room.

"That fuckin' prick," Jake said, shaking his head. He looked down at Vin. "You're lookin' a bit less fiery than the last time I saw you kid." He turned to Billy. "He's probably right about Levitz though, although..." he looked back down at Vin in contemplation. "He could just be tryin'a save his own hide."

Vin scoffed at that and his voice sounded resigned to his fate. "I'm a lot of things but I ain't stupid. Nothin' I say now'll save my hide, but despite what you think the club means more to me than anythin'. It's always been my life. I was never gonna give that prick Levitz what he wanted. That son of a bitch beat the shit out of me first, the offer came long after he'd had his fun." The lie rolled off his tongue expertly.

Billy studied his face for a moment. "And what was it he wanted from you?"

Vin looked him in the eye and didn't blink. "He wanted me to take you out before you could do the same to him. He knew his time was up both with the force and with his association with the club and he didn't want to owe anyone any favours. I wasn't the only one he got to either. He had a man inside, one of your own, said he wanted to get into the clubhouse and clean it right out but I didn't have anythin' he could use so he didn't push me on that. Said he already had enough anyway after Decker got himself killed."

Vin could see his words hit home like sharp arrows. He knew the clubhouse had been stormed and by the look on Billy's face he could see all of the anger and rage that the man was feeling. Billy's jaw was clenched so tight Vin thought he might break off teeth. _Redirection 101,_ he thought with a small measure of satisfaction.

"Holy shit. He did it didn't he?" He was going for gold now, no point holding back. "That's why you didn't take me back there..?"

"Shut your mouth kid," Jake said, not looking at him, but his face was ominous. He really didn't want to be Levitz when they got their hands on him and while they're at it, Decker should be thankful he was already dead, but it wasn't Decker he was after right now. Payback was a bitch.

Vin took the precious seconds he was buying to look around as Billy and Jake stewed over what they'd just heard. He couldn't see anything outside the two windows and thought they were probably boarded up on the outside. It looked like a house, but the floors were concrete and he couldn't see beyond the room he was in. Apartment maybe? Abandoned building?

Billy had a handle on his rage by the time he spoke again but his face was a mixture of suspicion and anger now. "Convenient that you pin all this on a dead brother..."

Vin shook his head. "I didn't know it was him 'til Levitz told me. It's why he wanted someone to take his place right after he died."

Jake's eyes were narrowed. "No secret you guys hated each other. Wouldn't put it past you to make this shit up."

Vin gave a dry laugh. "What would be the point? You're gonna kill me anyway." He shrugged. "I did my job, I let you know. Do you what you want with it." He waited a moment for effect then added. "But don't say I didn't warn you. The brotherhood is strong, but real blood is stronger."

Jake looked at Billy and as if timed to perfection Judd chose that exact moment to make his appearance. He walked in and started talking before he picked up on the tension in the room. The presence of the cops behind him and three bikers guiding the new prisoners inside was enough to change the atmosphere in the room.

Vin looked at the two cops as they walked in. '_Jones and Ryant' _ he thought with a slight shake of his head. The outcome was inevitable. He's never forgotten a payback owed yet and today he seemed to be clocking them up. If someone offered him a game of pool right now he'd bet he could slam every shot home the way he had everyone lined up. Now, if he could just get himself the fuck out of here...

"What the fuck is this?"

_Ryant_, Vin watched with a grim satisfaction. His mouth was about to bury him.

"Where's Levitz?" Billy asked the men softly.

Eyeing Vin's grim expression and then finally clueing into the tension in the room, Ryant looked at Jones.

"Last time I ask you. _Where's your boss?_"

"We were just going to meet up with him. He just called for us to join him and ride back to the station with him. We need him to back us up and give us an alibi cos every-fuckin-person in Denver's lookin' for us. ATF found the ambulance, we ain't got a lot of time here."

Billy nodded. "Good. You go get him, the boy's'll ride with you. Then you bring him back here to me."

Ryant swallowed, looking at Jones. "Okay, sure..." He started to head out.

When Jones went to follow Jake blocked him. "You wait here."

Jone's eyes widened and he exchanged another look with Ryant, both wondering what the hell was going on.

"_Go_," Jake growled at Ryant and he left with three of the bikers. Vin counted two left in the room, not including Jake and Billy while he grasped onto the hope that Ryant's words brought him. If Chris found the ambulance then he was on his trail.

Billy waited until the sound of bikes riding out diminished then turned to Jones. The cop's eyes were wide and Vin could clearly make out sweat beading on his face.

"What's the problem?" he asked Billy straight.

Billy merely smiled and turned to Jake and Vin had barely taken sight of Jake stepping forward, gun in hand, when the sound of the shot blasted past him.

Jones was dead before he hit the ground, the back of his head blown out and covering the drywall behind him.

Vin closed his eyes against the agony that the noise had driven through his head, having to grind his jaw to stop any noise escaping him. When he got his vision back he thought he should feel something about the loss of the man's life, but with the reminder of the taser's burn still throbbing in his back and the memory of their callous faces as they'd shut the lid on him, he didn't manage to. Still, unless his team found him by some miracle very soon he wouldn't be worrying about the cost of therapy.

Whilst he was glad that it was Officer Jones on the floor and not himself, Vin was even gladder when Billy's attention still stayed away from him. The large man turned to Judd next with a glare and Vin watched as the smaller man took a step back at the unexpected hostility before him.

"What the hell's with you? I haven't done anything!"

"Looks like the cops aren't the only ones workin' for Levitz," Billy said plainly.

Vin couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried. Judd sprang toward him with carelessly unleashed words that served only to implicate him further.

"You motherfucker! What have you been saying?!"

And Billy, who's temper had breached his short leash earlier in the day when his home had been seized, took that as confirmation that Judd thought he'd been sprung. In his eyes he'd just condemned himself.

"Damn. At this point it's just gonna be me an' you left old friend," Jake said with a slightly disbelieving shake of his head to Billy.

Vin was surprised when Billy gave the other man a nostalgic smile. "It started out that way, it can end that way."

Judd looked bewildered. "What the fuck is going on here? You told me I could have a shot at him... what crap is he telling you? He's just trying to save his own skin. He killed my fucking brother God damn it!"

Vin needed to abolish any doubts quickly. "You got your payback for your brother. You set me up to take the fall over that girl and handed me to Levitz knowing what he'd do to me."

Billy looked at Vin then and used his knife to idly punctuate his words.

"I know you wanted a future with the club. I know you didn't fake that. You wanted the chance I was offering you... so why would you go and fuck it all up over a useless prick like Levitz...? Over a rape charge? We would have seen you through that."

Vin scoffed. "I wasn't getting out of it. These pricks had me right where they wanted me."

"That true? You set him up?" Billy asked Judd.

Vin saw the man hesitate and it cost him. He actually shuffled his feet while he thought about his answer. "Prick had it comin'."

"Still," Jake said, "Sugar was workin' on somethin'... he would've got you clear. What did Levitz have on you to make you his bitch?"

Vin shook his head. "What can I say... I roll over easy."

Before he could blink Billy was in his face and before he could even focus on the close up view he felt an agony in his hand that was beyond words. He cried out with the shock of it and his eyes shot down without his permission. Billy's knife was now impaling his left hand to the wooden arm rest.

"I trusted you like my own. I took you under my wing. Do you know how many sorry bastards would kill for that shot? And this is what you do with it!" Billy shouted in his face, his eyes inches from Vin's own as he took in every grunt and harsh pant of breath Vin took.

Like an insect pinned to a board Vin saw his fingers twitching and forced himself to look up, to meet Billy's murderous eyes head on.

"Like your own? What the fuck would you know about your own?" He shot back, to hell with burying his emotions. The shock and pain on top of everything he'd gone through to get to this point was sending him over the edge faster than he could deal with. That the pain in his skull was being overridden by the pain in his hand was no small deal.

Billy frowned and leant back a fraction but Vin said nothing more, just grimaced as his hand moved involuntarily, shooting a fresh surge of raw agony up his arm and Billy's scowl deepened. Despite himself, the man was intrigued enough to question further.

"You know, since you rode into town things have gone to hell fast. I'm wondering how much of a coincidence that is. I lost the operation, I lost my clubhouse and now I've lost my fucking men. You can see how I don't have a lot of options left here." He yelled then so suddenly that even Jake flinched. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT AND HOW MUCH OF THIS WAS YOUR DOING?" He took a breath and got himself under control, but the rage in his face and within his tightly coiled frame was obvious. "All I've got right now is my need for a slow and violent revenge... And I have you." The last he said so quietly that Vin could feel the menace and promise of pain emanate from the man's skin.

He had to fight not to swallow again. He wasn't immune to fear and right then, he knew things were going to go downhill for him very quickly.

"While we're at it. I saw a strange thing out there," Jake put in, also stepping closer and crowding Vin. Vin looked away from Billy and up at him, staying silent. "Thought you said all your boys were dead."

Vin frowned, then realised what Jake meant. Ivan. _Fuck_.

"So one lived. Doesn't stop the fact the others died," he said, his throat so dry his words grated like boots crunching over gravel.

"You lied about it."

"Yeah, well, considerin' it was you that killed 'em all," he said to Billy, "What else was I s'posed to do?"

_Good going Vin, piss the man off some more._

"You believe I killed them and still you wanted to work with me?" Billy said, not believing him. "Or maybe... just maybe, you were always Eddies boy."

Vin felt his stomach tense yet again and he could see Billy come to a decision. Vin could only hope that he'd bought himself enough time for any chance of a rescue because his time was up.

"It's clear to me you were playing me for a fool. Eddie sent you in here to spy on me, report back to him."

Judd grinned then and it was an expression bordering on maniacal. "Maybe he killed my brother on Eddies orders too."

Vin shot his eyes at the worm and his mouth twisted into a sneer. "No, that was all me."

Judd blinked, not believing what he'd just heard. He closed the distance like a leaping tiger. "You son of a _bitch_!"

"Enough," Billy said even as Jake put out an arm and stopped Judd from pouncing on Vin. He took his time lighting a cigarette before pointing it at Vin like he was a naughty child. When he spoke Vin knew Billy had set his course and would not deviate from it. "Fact is, son, I can't trust you any more. And if I can't trust you, you're no good to me. Except I _do_ think you know where Eddie is and what his plan is. They didn't have their bikes with them, so they must have left them somewhere. They'll be filling up the local jails right about now, but some of them got away and the rest will have to crawl their way back home. I'm going to kill you anyway, you know that. So here's a deal for you. I'm going to start off real easy on you and ask you nice and maybe if you tell me, I'll kill you quick. Not much of a chance, but it's the only one you've got. You wanna play games, I'm good with that too. God knows I need the outlet today."

_Like there's any chance in hell you'll kill me quick you son of a bitch._

"So let's move forward. Where's Eddie? And where are they meeting up?"

Billy was quick to rise to anger and with a nod Jake was standing before him, a gun pressing down into his thigh. "Where are they?" he demanded again.

Vin scowled at Billy. "I have no fucking idea. These clowns knocked me out and grabbed me 'fore I had a chance to find out."

Compared to the coffin the room wasn't small but Vin felt it closing in around him all the same. Billy was giving him a calculating look. "I have to admit, you got me good. It was easy to believe you were just a lucky catch when I needed one."

Vin's heart was hammering inside his chest but outwardly, he was the picture of calm. "You're the one ruinin' our friendship."

"You're good, I have to give you that, but I don't believe you had any intention of doing what I asked, and I know you helped Suzy run away. She must have fucked you good huh?"

Vin held his tongue, nothing he said right then would be believed anyway. He felt a tide of adrenaline rush through him as Jake moved his hand slightly, the barrel of the gun pressing harder into his leg but a moment later the pressure was gone. He looked up in time to see Jake head out of the room at some unspoken command from Billy that he'd missed.

"Get me those wire ties," Billy ordered Judd who followed Jake's path and returned faster than Vin hoped, Jake right behind him.

Vin's eyes saw what was in Jake's hands but his brain refused to process the sight. His heart rate spiked, the organ hammering in his chest in time to the throbbing pain in his head and hand and it took everything he had to control his breathing. Judd stepped in and wrapped wire ties around his arm, cutting into the crook of his elbow. His hand wasn't going anywhere with the knife through it, it was an unnecessary token but it wasn't designed for anything other than pain and complete immobilisation as the ties cut into his skin.

He knew what was going to happen. He looked at Billy who smiled down at him as Jake stepped closer to his chair and Judd moved back. He understood pain too well, but he'd seen what was about to happen to him carried out before and he could still remember the screams of the men in his position.

"You know what I'm going to do, right?"

Vin said nothing, his blue eyes defiant as he looked dead ahead, his mouth firmly closed and his teeth already slammed together.

"I'll give you a choice though, cos I'm feeling generous today. You want me to use my knife..." he gave the knife in Vin's hand a shove and a short cry was wrenched from his throat, "... or the grater?"

Again Vin clenched his jaw, wondering where the sweat that had coated him before had gone, because now it had dried on his clothes and he felt a shiver building that was bone deep.

"No preference? What do you think, Judd? Any preference?"

Vin closed his eyes for a second. He knew what that prick would choose. He opened them them again and they moved to the flat, rusty grater in Jake's hands, the serrated holes large. Great. Tetanus to boot.

Shall I forgo the official statement?" He asked Vin, moving the metal grater so that it rested over the tattoo on the inside of his forearm. "Perhaps I'll just recite as I go... Let me see if I can remember it, it's been a while since I actually did this kind of work myself."

A second later Vin felt the grater rip through his skin on it's first swipe and his arm jerked involuntarily. He was glad, at that moment, that he had opted for a smaller representation of the clubs tattoo's on his skin. He had always thought that he would have it removed one day when his time with the club was over, or some kind of cover up ink done, but he hadn't planned on doing it this way. He heard Billy reciting words in a toneless voice.

"Due to crimes committed against the club's name, you are hereby evicted from the Devil's Jokers."

Vin felt the grater move over his skin over and over again, cutting away the layers of ink until his flesh gleamed white beneath but he kept his eyes on Billy, glaring at him through the excruciating pain.

"You no longer have the right to bear our colours."

Billy took his time, moving slowly and methodically as Vin ground his teeth into near obliteration. His jaw was clenched unbelievably hard and the sweat had started up again with a vengeance as he desperately tried to work through the intense pain. His arm, desperate to escape the torture, jerked and spasmed and his hand was torn against the blade still embedded in it with every movement. The grater continued to rip into his flesh well after the tattoo was long removed and he grunted with the pain despite his best effort to endure the process in stoic silence, beginning to wonder if Billy would keep going until he hit bone, or at the least hit a vein that would bleed him out. His arm was straining against the ties, bleeding harshly where they cut deep into his skin.

"And so I remove your patch of honour..."

Billy was varying the pressure and angle so that the wound was becoming wider, beyond the size of the tattoo that had been there.

"And leave you with the mark that symbolises your banishment from the brotherhood."

With those words he gave one final, deep slash with the makeshift weapon and Vin gave a sharp shout of pain as his flesh was ripped primitively from his body. The grater was soaked in his blood, which ran down freely to the floor from both it and his open wound. The shivering that he'd felt build hit him and he felt his body shake with the shock against his will. As Billy stepped back, still looking down at him he let his head drop down, desperately trying to get his breathing under control and shield his brain from the onslaught of pain signals being sent its way.

"Should have chosen the knife," Judd said to Billy with regret. "I could have kept it when you sliced it off him. Would have stuck it on my jacket."

"Look at the bright side," Billy told Vin, putting out a mock gentle hand to the top of his bowed head, "you won't have to worry about scarring, you won't be alive that long." He smiled down at him cruelly. "But we didn't get to finish our conversation from before."

Vin barely registered the knife coming at him before it was plunged deep into his thigh in the same spot Jake's gun had been. He couldn't stop his protesting shout of pain, more of a scream this time as his body writhed in the chair. The blade had sunk deep into the muscle, coming to rest against bone and stayed right there. His eyes went to the knife despite his determination not to look. He could see little blood, but knew once the metal was pulled out it would start. The site of it, together with the pain, made him sick and he looked away, sweat once more pouring from his face as he panted in the aftershock.

Billy was studying his face, his smile still in place. "You had that one coming."

Still breathing fast, Vin felt a rough hand gripping his hair and his head was pulled back. Judd had moved behind him. Again he'd missed Billy's signal and he cursed himself for not being aware.

"Where's Eddie?"

Vin's glare was solid but it was shattered by the hard blow to his face as Billy swung his fist. Judd's hand in his hair didn't let him move far but it was far enough to wrench the knife in his hand and he felt it tug through his flesh before it was stopped by the wood it was embedded in. Another harsh sound tore from his throat and now his eyes were back on Billy. He didn't try to hide his emotions, felt them take control of him from the inside out. In his eyes was anger and frustration but beyond that, there was a hatred and a desire for revenge that hit him like a sudden tidal wave. His breathing grew harsh and his chest moved forward as his body tried to get to its target. The hand in his hair tugged him back and he gave a harsh laugh at Billy's surprised face.

"You wanna kill me, go the fuck ahead, but I don't have to tell you shit. I don't owe you anything but a bullet right between your mother-fucking eyes you sick, twisted coward."

For a moment there was total silence. The always calm, always softly spoken Texan had just unleashed a lifetime of hatred in his short speech and delivered it so fiercely that his loathing was palpable.

Billy's previous intrigue turned to confusion and then sudden anger and he stepped forward again.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem? What did I ever do to you for you to want to kill me this bad? You're shaking with it. Most people would be begging for their life right about now. I should know. You? If I let you out of this chair right now you'd go straight for my fucking throat." He sounded morbidly curious. "What wrong do you think I did you boy? Cos I sure as fuck have no idea."

Vin watched as Billy gave Jake an almost amused expression as if to say 'what the fuck is up this kid's ass?' and it was almost his undoing. He felt words spewing up from his throat that were stopped by the sudden sound of shouting as the bikers returned with Levitz and Ryant.

If Vin wasn't so pent up with over two decades worth of animosity he would have been almost amused by the sight of Levitz's face as he entered the room only a second before Jake lifted his gun and shot Ryant in the head. The spray of blood and gore that coated the side of the corrupt Chief's face was surreal but not as vivid to Vin's mind as the look of complete astonishment, followed by rage that came over him as he turned to Billy.

Still panting in his rage and pain Vin almost shook his head at the corrupt Chief. _Stupid, stupid man._ Let it be said, Vin was definitely good on his word when it came to payback. If he'd had the time he would have seen him taken down the long, yet arguably right way. The lawful way. But Levitz considered himself above the law, had taken his position of power and abused it for his own gain, writing his own rules as he went. It was only fitting it end like this for him. He wanted to play sheriff and make his bed with outlaws? He could die like one.

Not getting an immediate answer from anyone Levitz looked from Ryant, to Jones, then to the gory sight of Vin held down in the chair, his face showing bruises, knives sticking out of him like a fucking pincushion and his arm bathed in blood.

"What the FUCK is going on here?!" he demanded again.

"You might have burrowed your way into my den, Levitz, and done more damage than I gave you credit for, but you should have made sure if you were going to try and take me down that you got me out of the picture. No way you can live after what you've done to me," Billy told him.

Levitz turned incredulous eyes on him. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything!"

Billy nodded to Jake and his second handed over his gun without word. Billy slid out the clip and checked it slowly, pursing his lips as he sent it home again and raised the weapon right at Levitz's head.

"Kneel," he told the man.

For the first time Vin saw real fear in the man's face as he finally realised his predicament. "What? I don't understand-"

"KNEEL!" Billy shouted this time, but Levitz was incapable of movement.

"I had nothing to do with it. Murphy and his fucking team and those ATF assholes... God damn it!" he trailed off and looked down at Vin and his eyes widened as he put it together. "Whatever he told you is a lie. There's an agent missing, the ATF put a -"

Vin's heart rate spiked but Jake cut the man off.

"Shut up!"

It took two more bikers working with him to bring Levitz to his knees but together with Jake they got him there in the end.

Despite what Vin thought of the man he didn't think the next words would come out of him. "Please... I have a family. Whatever you want. I didn't do this..."

Billy looked at Vin and winked. "See with the begging?"

And Vin had to look down. It wasn't guilt, or sadness, he just didn't want to pity the sad bastard. He didn't deserve his pity after all he'd done.

"Maybe, maybe not. But you didn't warn us either," Jake said in a low voice.

"All things come to an end Levitz. You're just pissed off we got you first you motherfucker. Now take it like a man and stop fucking grovelling before I make you lick my boots first."

Vin watched Levitz's frantic eyes dart from Billy and then to himself and he felt his heart leap again and a sudden calculating smile lifted the old bastard's lips. "Fine. I can't stop you. But I want you to know something before you kill me."

Vin's eyes narrowed and he felt his entire body shiver as he pulled at his bindings without thinking, renewed pain lancing through his hand.

"And what's that?" Jake calmly asked.

Levitz almost leered at Vin. "The ATF are missing an agent. He went missing from the funeral. They had him positioned with another of their men as a sniper." He looked at Billy then, his eyes determined and unflinching. "You want some revenge, you should start there."

There was absolutely no expression on Billy's face as he pulled the trigger. Twice. Levitz never had the time to soak up his final act of evil.

After all of the drama the ensuing silence was heavy. Vin felt the absolute violence in the room like a gathering storm and knew his time was up. He had to give it to Levitz, he'd played his game well. The bastard had made sure he'd thrown in all his bets before his hand was over and Vin was about to come out on the losing side.

He felt his body reacting to the intrusion of metal and the loss of blood that was still streaming from his arm and hand but more than that, he felt the gathering rage and Billy's vengeance mounting and turning toward him. He looked the man in the eye as he turned and looked down at him. Knew then that it was game over. Billy's hand was rising again and this time he was going to pull the trigger. He'd never hear the second shot.

Billy's hand clamped on the handle of the gun and his finger almost shook as he squeezed out his terrible rage at Levitz's words and Vin gave one last dry swallow.

"_Wait_."

Billy's finger paused and Vin swallowed once more, his throat dryer than he could ever remember it being in his life. He watched Billy's eyes and saw his own death there. He could just let it happen, close his mouth and be on his way... _To hell with it all._

"You gonna beg son? And here I was thinkin' you were special."

Vin watched the bastard smirking down at him and almost swallowed his words. He was at war with himself. Nothing he said was going to make a difference and closure would do him no good once that trigger was pulled... but still he felt helpless as the words fell from his mouth.

"For the record," he said, voice bleeding as richly as his physical wounds, "you were right. This was personal for me." He watched Billy's eyes narrow and flick to Jake then back down at him. "I really did bring you down. Worked my damn ass off to do it. Spent my entire life waiting for this day. I trained and I worked hard and I made my bed with criminals and murderers and fucking assholes like you just to put an end to you. You're right. If I could get out of this chair I'd rip you apart. I'd smash that gun into the side of your fucking head until there was nothing left of it to shoot up. I might not see you dead, but you're as good as. I've taken everything from you and after you pull that trigger, very soon you'll know it was me that ruined you. There's no starting again after today. I've made sure of it."

He took one long, shaking breath after that and was beyond realising that there was moisture stinging the back of his eyes. He didn't remember the last time he'd cried, figured he was incapable of it, but damned if he wasn't close after that little speech. Still, he'd done it. For her. Billy really was going down and now he knew who had done it to him. He trusted Larabee and Murphy to see that through.

Billy's eyes showed his utter confusion, his gun still aimed levelly at Vin's head, but his finger stayed on the trigger.

"Why?" was all he said with the slightest shake of his head, but there was more than curiosity there. Before him he saw a young man about to be put to death by his hand. A scene that should be all too familiar to him. Yet where he should be staring up at him, scared and begging, he was shaking not with fear but with raw emotion and defiance. He wasn't stalling any more, he wanted to end it right, his way. There was some shred inside of him that wanted to give him that and wanted to know what was driving the man that he had to admit, had impressed the hell out of him. Right up until the point he'd been revealed as a traitorous bastard...

"Because when you call me son, you have no idea what the word should mean to you. Because you killed my mother."


End file.
